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#like first day I’ll tell them I have trouble speaking clearly and please ask me to repeat what I said if needed or slow down
ameliathefatcat · 5 months
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Question when was the first time you had a teacher with a disability? And were they open about it?
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wheredafandomat · 1 year
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Party girl P2 : Trouble
Mob! Loki x female reader
18+ | contains smut - I wasn’t gonna do another part but here, Ao3 and wattpad are asking and of course I aim to please || Part 1 if you didn’t catch it TW KIDNAP
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You regarded the roses suspiciously despite knowing they were from Loki although you didn’t give him your address. Remembering his status, you assumed he had connections and put the flower delivery down to that. Too fixated on the small card in your hand, you had failed to notice Natasha’s questioning gaze as she watched you.
“What’s that?” She asked, snapping you back to reality.
“Roses.” You answered plainly.
“Yeah, from who?” She delved.
“Never mind.” You shrugged, about to pass her before she stopped you.
“Come on, don’t be like that, show me the card.” She requested.
“No.”
“Y/n.” She spoke warningly.
“No.” You repeated, a smile spreading across your face before you broke off into a sprint around the apartment, Natasha quick to chase you. Both of you giggled, petals flying around the living room as you ran into it, circling the couch. When she finally caught you, she took the card from your hands, gasping as she read it.
“L as in Loki? How did he even get our address?”
“I don’t knowww.” You replied, sitting on the couch.
“Did you two?” She asked, clearly alluding to sex.
“Yess.” You smiled.
“Was it good?”
“Amazing” you sighed dreamily “but I told him I wasn’t looking for commitment and that that was supposed to be a one night thing but all these roses look like commitment.” You huffed.
“Or maybe he’s just thanking you for the good night. It’ll stop.” She assured.
“I hope.”
But it didn’t stop. Every day a bouquet of some type of flowers arrived at your door. As the week went on, the apartment grew full of them, the fragrant smell overpowering anything else. Eventually you began distributing them to your neighbours, wanting everyone to enjoy the fruits of your labour so to speak.
When it got to the end of the week, you began noticing a black Rolls Royce situated outside your apartment. At first it wasn’t suspicious considering you lived in quite a wealthy neighbourhood but then you noticed it didn’t move much during the day. The tinted windows made it impossible to tell whether or not someone was ever inside but considering it’d sometimes be in different locations, all still close to you, you assumed someone was inside which meant that they didn’t really leave the car. You felt surveilled, it was evident that whoever was in the car was interested in seeing you as you began noticing it following you around. When you brought it up to Nat, she told you you were being paranoid. So you were being paranoid.
“Is she not the most buigiling thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.” Loki hummed contently as he watched you reading from your apartment, his car paired with the lack of privacy from your open curtains offering the perfect view of you.
“Loki, we’ve got business we need to deal with, you can’t just keep—”
“Silence!” Loki interrupted before calming himself down “make no mistake, I am very much aware of the situation however y/n has not yet thanked me for the flowers and I find such rudeness punishable.” He spoke.
“You’re going to kill her? Gosh Loki I—”
“No I’m not going to kill her, perhaps spank her yes” he smirked at the thought “or maybe I’ll have her on her knees begging for my forgiveness” he continued, smirk growing “regardless, my patience is wearing thin, clearly my more subtle approach isn’t working.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have a few ideas.” Loki chuckled.
When you left your apartment this morning, the last thing you thought was going to happen was that a stranger was going to jump out at you, grab you and drag you to his car. Despite your desperate attempts at fleeing, he was too strong, too overpowering. You thrashed and screamed, no one hearing you until you gave up. Surprisingly, you were not carried to the boot and instead had your seatbelt secured by the kidnapper who then waved a bottle of water in your face leaving you confused.
“I’m not a monster.” He shrugged, leaving the water on your lap.
“How do I know it’s not poisoned?” You questioned. Huffing, the man picked the bottle up before opening it and taking a sip.
“Not a monster.” He concluded, handing you back the water before entering the car.
“Where are we going?” You then asked once he started driving, confused as to what the protocol was for a kidnap.
“Boss wants you.” He answered.
“Boss? What do you mean—” you began to panic before realisation hit you “Loki! Loki did this!” You exclaimed.
“Yes ma’am.” The man confirmed leaving you fuming.
“Let me out.” You demanded.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” The man shrugged.
“Fine, I’ll deal with him when I see him.” You decided, crossing your arms.
The drive was nice despite the fact that it was against your will. You eventually learned your kidnappers name, Bucky, and passed time talking to one another. By the time you approached where you assumed was Loki’s estate, your conversation drew to a close.
“Just tell her how you feel and be direct, unlike some.” You advised, your sentence ending venomously as your eyes met Loki’s. Pushing the car door open, you stormed towards him angrily before being stopped by one of his security guards.
“Let her go” he spoke nonchalantly before smiling at you being set down “feisty.”
“What the fuck Loki? What’s this?” You shouted.
“What?” He answered feigning innconcence.
“You’ve kidnapped me.” You snarled.
“I wouldn’t say it’s a kidnap, that makes it sound dramatic” he began “in fact, you’re not being held here against your will, I just wanted a thank you for the flowers.”
“Here’s your thank you.” You replied, putting your middle fingers up causing Loki’s brows to furrow.
“That’s not nice.”
“Sorry, I know it was a bit overdramatic.” You agreed, Loki nodding as you spoke “but you did kidnap me.” You reasoned.
“Enough with the accusations, join me for a meal.” He welcomed.
“A meal?” You scoffed.
“I’ve brought the best chef in to prepare us a meal.”
“You’re insane.” You stressed as Loki gestured for you to follow him inside. “Don’t tell me you kidnapped them too.” You mumbled, following him inside.
When you reached what you assumed was the dining room, Loki pulled a chair out before gesturing for you to sit on it. You did so, allowing him to tuck the chair in. In front of you there was a selection of different foods and fruits as well as bottles of champagne. You took a steadying breath contemplating your life choices leading you up to this moment.
“Do you need me to feed you or are you capable?”
You glanced up at Loki who was sitting next to you before narrowing your gaze at him.
“Yes I’m capable.” You answered, picking up a knife and fork. Stabbing at a piece of food, you brought it to your lips before taking a bite. “That’s amazing.” You complimented just above a whisper.
“Only the best for you.” Loki grinned before picking up something. “You must try the pitted olives.” He insisted, using a cocktail stick to pick one up before feeding it to you.
“Mmm, that’s nice.” You hummed before Loki fed you another. He marveled in your sounds of appreciation, growing excited as you closed your eyes, swallowing.
Opening your eyes again, you noticed Loki looking at you intently.
“What’s your game here? What do you want?” You confronted him.
“For you to say thank you.” He answered causing you to roll your eyes.
“Really?” You huffed “a thank you? Cut the bullshit Loki and tell me what you really want.”
“Truthfully” he began, standing up and stepping behind you, his hands finding your shoulders before he began moving them in a way that could only be described as perfectly leaving you melting into his touch “I find myself wanting to please you” he admitted, lowering his lips to your ear to whisper, placing a single kiss just below it “and pleasing someone other than myself isn't in my nature so what is it about you that I can’t get over?” He queried, still gently massaging your shoulders.
“I told you I wasn’t looking for anything long term.” You opined.
“And I said I wasn’t the commitment type” he retorted “believe me, I have tried to get you out of my head. Every night I try to get you out of my head but no one fits me like you do. No one comes close to making me forget that night so let me have one more, here with you, in my bed, my terms and then you can go.” He proposed.
“No.” You quickly answered.
“No?”
“If you want me, you can have me right here, hard and fast and then I leave.” You bargained.
“It’s quite exhilarating, isn’t it.” Loki smiled coyly.
“What is?”
“Being ordered around” he began, lowering his lips to your ear again “I like it.”
Before long, the both of you were on your feet, Loki’s tongue pushing past your lips as he claimed your mouth. His hand was against your cheek as you leaned back against the table, kissing him back just as fiercely. His hand fell from your cheek before venturing down your body and finding purchase between your legs. His skillful hand cupped your pussy leaving you gasping into the kiss as he moved it to and fro. Using his other hand, he pushed you further against the table, ensuring you were stable before falling to his knees in front of you. He made fast work of eagerly tugging your trousers down as well as your panties, pulling them off of you before he was prising your legs apart, hungrily kissing your thighs. It didn’t take long for him to reach your centre leaving you moaning lewdly as his lips latched onto your clit. You ground your hips against his face as he flicked the bundle of nerves with his tongue before flattening it against it. Your head fell backwards, Loki’s name falling like a chant from your lips as he suckled on your clit. He felt you throbbing needily against him as he traced your pussy with his tongue before dipping it into your entrance leaving your legs trembling.
“I’m gonna cum.” You almost cried, legs clamping shut around Loki’s head as he circled your clit again leaving you spiraling into oblivion. “Fuckk.” You panted, reaching your climax.
Barely allowing you time to come down from your high, Loki was back up, freeing his hard length as he pushed you further up the table with his hips. Gripping it, he moved it through your sensitive folds, coating himself in your slick before reaching your entrance. Your eyes met briefly, your gaze daring him to enter you. Hard and fast you said. A small smirk spread across his lips as he pushed inside of you. He didn’t give you any time to adjust. Hard and fast. He bottomed out before slamming inside of you again, the movement leaving the table rocking. Hard and fast. Your eyes screwed tightly shut as Loki’s long cock moved in and out of your sensitive tunnel, every vein well received by your walls. His thrusts were merciless, his growls loud as he bared his teeth, fucking you against the table. Finally, he was back inside of you, where he fit, where he belonged.
“Say thank you.” He spoke, catching you off guard.
“No.” You answered, opening your eyes again.
“Say. It.” He ordered, thrusting harder with each word.
“Noo.” You insisted, clenching your walls around him, both of you granting each other pure, filthy pleasure. You lost all composure, practically crumbling beneath him as he reached between you again, using his thumb to toy with your clit. “I’m cumming.” You screamed, body tensing until you released but Loki didn’t relent, he continued playing with your clit, fucking your overstimulated pussy. “Lokiii.” You begged, needing him to stop, pleading with him to carry on.
“Say thank you.” He answered.
“N-no.” You choked out making Loki thrust harder until things were falling off of the table.
“Thank me!” He demanded.
“Fuckkk, I’m sooo closeeee Lokii.” You yelled.
“Thank me goddamn it.” He insisted, doubling over as he rested his head in the crook of your neck, thrusts growing sloppy.
“Thank youu.” You moaned, voice sultry in his ear as you reached another orgasm, Loki doing the same as he released inside of you.
Time stopped, both of you panting as Loki lifted his head, your gazes meeting again as you mapped one another’s faces. He was sweating, no doubt you were too as your heart rate began to slow. Your lips met haphazardly as Loki helped you to sit up before pulling out of you.
“I-I’m going to shower and then I’m leaving.” You spoke, trying to sound even, in charge.
“Very well” he spoke, handing you the trousers and panties that he previously tore off of you before clicking his fingers once you were dressed, Bucky entering the room “show her to my room.”
“Loki—” you began to protest.
“I’m not following you, don't worry” he interrupted “you can shower in there and then meet Bucky at the front, he’ll take you home.” He explained, turning away from you before you left.
Just over an hour later, Loki returned to his room finding it empty. Noticing that his wardrobe was open he walked towards it, smiling when he saw your clothes hung up on a hanger one of his shirts used to be. Making his way to the bed, he spotted the panties you were previously wearing as well as a note.
Consider me pleased x
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But that gif 🥵
Tags:
@lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @lulubelle814 @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @eyesbluelikethetitanic @vickie5446 @mcufan72 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @lokilvrr @evelyn-kingsley @strangelockd @xorpsbane @lovingchoices14 @donaweasley @sailorholly @lokidokieokie
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lowkeychenle · 1 year
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You're Not Sorry [ZCL]
Content Warnings: This fic deals with infidelity and is very angsty. Please read with caution if infidelity can be a trigger for you.
Description: You and Chenle broke up two weeks ago. The first time he calls you at 3am, you ignore it. Then he calls again. You answer, and you go to him knowing there's nothing he could do to fix what he's broken.
Genre: Angst. All angst. Help. (but also I pride myself on my angst so maybe read it anyway???)
Word Count: 2,218
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (mentions of Mark at the end, mentions of the Dreamies throughout)
Juliet's Masterlist | Ask Me Anything/Requests
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You haven’t heard from Chenle in two weeks. At first, you didn’t want to. Not after everything that happened and what he did. You were perfectly fine with never speaking to him again, but now that he’s been silent, you crave his presence even when you shouldn’t.
At the exact end of week two, your vibrating phone wakes you up at three in the morning. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up in bed and grab it. Chenle’s name sits in big letters on your screen, and at first, you’re not sure what to do. Your muscle memory demands you answer him, because it’s obviously important if he’s calling you at 3am, but you don’t want to go down the wrong path. You don’t want to risk forgiving him simply because you’re sad, hurt, and lonely.
Your palms sweat and your heart races as you continue to stare. When it fades to black again, you finally feel like you can breathe. You exhale shakily, suddenly wide awake at the intrusion of him. At that moment, you decide that you’ll answer if he calls a second time. If he does, it must be important. He could be in danger somewhere.
A minute passes. Two. You think you’re in the clear. It was another lame attempt to get you to talk to him, clearly. None of that matters. You can’t trust him anymore, no matter how much he insists he made a mistake.
3:03am comes around and your phone vibrates again. You grab it faster than you care to admit.
“What?” you snap.
He doesn’t say anything yet. You hear him breathing shakily, but that’s it.
“If you don’t tell me why you’re calling, I’m hanging up.”
“Please don’t.” His voice is fragile, thick. “Please.”
You don’t know where he’s at, but you can imagine. You imagine him in his bed, blinking past tears, staring at his ceiling as he yearns to have you next to him. But you didn’t ruin that image—he did. All of this is his fault.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“Did you need something?” you hiss, pushing the words past the lump in your throat. “Or did you call to make things harder for everyone?”
“Yeah,” he inhales sharply. “I…something happened with the car, and I’m just sitting on the side of the road. The managers don’t know I left, and if I call them, I’ll get in so much trouble—”
“Are you just now learning that your actions have consequences, Chenle?” You don’t mean to sound so harsh, because at the end of the day, you still love him. You love him way more than you should and way more than you want to.
“(Y/N), please.” He pauses.
“What about the boys?”
“You know why I can’t call them.”
Oh, right. They’re even more pissed at him than you are.
“It’s okay if you hate me,” he mutters. “It really is. I don’t blame you, but I need you. Don’t make me do this alone.”
Your heart twists so violently in your chest, you swear you feel a rib crack. Chenle, if nothing else, has always been good at making you feel. Whether it’s happiness, heartbreak, or hurt, you feel it.
“Damn it.” You shake your head, throwing your comforter off your lap. “Send me your location. I’ll come get you.”
“Thank you.” The relief in his voice sends another pang through you.
“Don’t get used to it. And don’t you dare ever do something stupid that I have to save you from again. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah. I won’t.”
You hang up on him while cursing under your breath. After all of this, you’re still going to help him?
Of course, you are.
He’s Chenle, and you’re you. Forever intertwined even when it breaks you into pieces to realize that. Soon enough, all that will be left is the one part of you attached to him—your heart. The rest of you will break down, disappear, but somehow, he’ll have your heart in his hand, squeezing it much too tightly for comfort.
Your phone vibrates once to indicate he sent you his location, and you pull on a pair of sweatpants and run a brush through your hair. Before you know it, you’re driving to the literal middle of nowhere at 3:30am to pick up your ex-boyfriend.
You see the familiar black SUV, the one with the blacked out windows and special license plate, and you park your car behind it. Taking one last deep breath, you stare as he climbs out of the driver’s seat.
Even though it’s only truly been a couple weeks, it seems as if it’s been years. Decades. And him looking exactly the same as the man you once knew has you shaking. You’re not sure what to say to him when he sits down in your passenger seat, but his beautiful brown gaze meets yours.
The lights are dim, but it’s enough to see the redness on his cheeks, in his eyes, at the tip of his nose. His jaw quivers at the sight of you, but that’s when the lights fade to black. The new moon isn’t even enough to give him a glimpse of you. Blue LEDs are all that’s left—the quiet glow bouncing off his skin and making him realer. He’s sitting right in front of you, a longing look on his face as if he’s not the one who fucked everything up in the first place.
“What the hell are you doing out at 3 in the morning?” you ask him, driving off.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs, hands fidgeting in his lap.
You spend the majority of the ride in complete silence. The radio is off, and all you hear is him trying to breathe normally. You’re not much better, either. You blink back tears, refusing to let him see how upset you are by all of this. If he loved you, he never would’ve done it in the first place. You have to remember that.
It’s not until you pull into his driveway that he speaks.
“They’re so mad at me.” He looks straight forward, neither of you brave enough to initiate eye contact.
“They should be. Deserve to be, actually. You didn’t just hurt me, you know.” You grip the steering wheel until your knuckles pale, wishing he would get out and go inside.
“I’m mad at them, too.” He wets his lips.
“You’re mad at them for what?” You scoff, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Mad because they caught you in the first place? Or mad because they all agreed to tell me?”
“It’s not any of their business.”
“Oh, right, so you’d never tell me. You’d let me continue to love you when you couldn’t be bothered to give me the same?” You’re not sure where your confidence is coming from. This is Chenle—the man you love, and someone you never imagined would put you in a situation like this.
“It was a mistake—”
“It doesn’t matter. It happened. You fucked up. They’re the best people, you know that? You’re pissed because all six of them are better than you. Because none of them would’ve ever stooped to the level you went. And because you hate the idea that someone else is able to comfort me. What did you expect? That they would comfort you?” Your grip tightens somehow, and you finally look at him.
He’s in tears. The liquid running down his cheeks reflects the luminescent blue, and it’s almost enough to make you feel bad for him.
“It wasn’t even once, either. It was twice. You did it twice.” You let out a throaty laugh, knowing this is the furthest thing from funny.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to lose you, ever. We’re supposed to get married and have cute babies that look like you, and—”
“We don’t get to do those things anymore,” you snap, shaking your head.
“Do you hate me?” he whispers. “You should, but I can’t handle the thought of that.”
“Hate you.” You drop your head back on the seat. “I wish I could. I wish I could stop loving you because it hurts so fucking bad. You threw away everything, and for what?”
“I can do better.”
“You don’t get the opportunity.”
“Please. I know I can do this.” His eyes widen and his eyebrows furrow, truly pleading.
“Staying faithful shouldn’t be hard, Chenle.”
“I love you.” His voice doesn’t break. It shatters. “Baby, please.”
“If you love me, you’ll respect my decision. You’ll just leave.” You close your eyes, and a tear runs down your cheek.
He, instinctively, you assume, reaches up and swipes his thumb across your skin. “Life wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“Consequences,” you repeat. “Your actions have consequences.”
Regardless of what you should or shouldn’t do, you lean into his touch. Into the warmth his skin provides that you’re scared you’ll never feel from someone else ever again.
“I’m so sorry,” he says again. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I did, and you shouldn’t either. But please know I love you. I always have, and I always will.”
“Chenle,” you murmur.
“Yes?”
“Don’t call me anymore.” You gulp. “I won’t answer.”
You see the hurt play out on his face, but you know it’s only a fraction of what he put you through.
When he opens the door, the frigid air replaces him. A shiver runs through you, but you’re not sure if it’s from the cold or from the way it feels like your heart and soul are being ripped to shreds for a second time.
You thought he was the one. You thought he was perfect for you. Perfect in general.
You thought you didn’t deserve him, and it’s a damn shame that it took until now for you to realize it’s the other way around.
He stands in the driveway, illuminated by your headlights until you’re pulling away and driving off down the street. You watch him through your rearview mirror, holding your breath as he gets smaller and smaller.
As soon as he’s gone from your sight, a sob cracks open your chest. You scream and cry for all the things you lost, and you don’t even know where to go from here. You’re barely a mile away from Chenle’s when your phone starts ringing again.
Your chest still shakes from the pain, but you answer Mark’s call.
“Yeah?” You sniffle, aggressively wiping your eyes.
“What’s going on?” he asks quickly, voice laced with worry. “I swear, I was dead asleep and then I just…I woke up. And then I saw your location at Chenle’s, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”
You take a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m okay. He was stranded and called me for a ride home.”
Mark sighs. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). You should’ve called one of us.”
“I know.” You run your fingers through your hair. “I’ll be fine. I just need to go back to sleep.”
“Do you want to come here?” he offers. “You don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be.”
You contemplate for a moment. When the boys sat you down to tell you what Chenle had done, Mark was the one who made sure you got home alright. He stayed with you for that one night to make sure Chenle didn’t show up after you broke things off.
“Can I do that?” you whisper, afraid your voice will break if you speak any louder.
“Of course,” he says. You hear him shuffle around in the background, presumably getting out of bed.
“Thank you,” you say, relieved. “It’s literally taking all of my strength not to turn around and go back to him.”
“Doesn’t matter what he thinks, you’re a part of us now, okay? We take care of our own,” Mark replies. “Just get here safe.”
You say your goodbyes and hang up, switching directions to find Mark and Haechan’s apartment. When you park your car in the lot, it takes a few minutes to work up the courage to get out.
And then you’re standing in front of the building, looking up to the fifth floor where you know they’re at. The air is so frigid, you can see your breath clouding around you. It sinks into your skin, into your bones, but for some reason, it’s the first time tonight that you feel you can breathe. As the chill sets in, so does reality. So does the truth.
A man who loves you won’t do the things Chenle did. He wouldn’t be defensive if his friends told you about it, and he certainly wouldn’t be calling you at 3am, crying and begging for help.
You inhale deeply, tasting the freezing cold as if it’s palpable.
It’s not going to be easy. In fact, it’ll probably be the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but this was the last straw. You don’t want to be in pain. Or feel unloved. You know you deserve more than that.
You promise yourself at that very moment that you’ll never allow yourself to go back.
You’re going to get over Zhong Chenle, even if it tears you to shreds in the process.
It can’t be worse than what he’s already done.
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flowers-of-io · 4 months
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Legacy First [the Bray family fanmix]
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Listen on Spotify
//song list and lore under the cut//
Queen of Peace – Florence + the Machine
I understand you're angry with me. I would be too, if I'd watched my father come so close to salvation, only to die the way he did. Believe me-the groans and snaps of his exobody tearing itself apart haunt me almost as profoundly as the things we said over his deathbed. [...] But what I am working on here could have saved him. Could save him still.
His only son Cut down but the battle won Oh, what is it worth
Moons of Jupiter – Freezepop
“Europa has relit the fire in my soul; one that even its freezing winds cannot chill.”
I think you are the moons of Jupiter I think there's something hiding underneath the ice
Nice to Meet Me – Zack Hemsey
The K1 artifact promised me an offering. A gateway to the secret of immortality. I call it Clarity. It is waiting on Europa.
And I feel like I got a gun Like I've been changed more ways than one And this whole world has just begun
Kingdom Fall – Claire Wyndham
“Agatha, clearly we have not found our solution. I'll leave this, hm, mess in your incapable hands. Don't ever bring me up to witness an event like this again. Disgusting.”
Nothing here is shining Shining like it should
Her Father In The Pool – The National
“That's your son's quote,” she snapped. “You know, I've seen the video of his final days. That naked, white exo, just paramuscle and soft membrane, writhing in its cradle. When you were done with him, he looked like nothing more than a slug, Clovis. A twisted, limbless giblet. Did you 'support and nurture' him while you tortured him to death?”
Mistakes – PHILDEL
I know how much you've lied It's too much to discuss numbers I know how much I've let slide
Numbers – Daughter
Fine. I’m coming. […] If you tell the family I’m sick, I’ll never speak to you again. I won’t even let you treat me. You’ll have to watch, helpless, as your own granddaughter falls victim to your mistakes. I hope you’re still someone capable of being troubled by that.
You’d better make me better
Organs – Of Monsters And Men
“I activate this... and it all goes away. [sniffles] Cheers to that.”
And I cough up my lungs Because they remind me of how it all went wrong But I leave in my heart Because I don't want to stay in the dark
Rabbit Heart – Florence + the Machine
She’s done it. My girl has transubstantiated. My legacy is safe. […] The scan was flawless, and of course, fatally toxic. My granddaughter’s human form died on the table 14 hours later.
And Midas is king, and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Destroy Everything You Touch – Unwoman
“Of course you dreamt about killing us. Your grandfather made you this way. And he kills everything he touches.” 
Destroy everything you touch today Destroy me this way Anything that may desert you So it cannot hurt you
Over Cold Shoulders – Eliza Rickman
“The memory bank you just slipped in your pocket. That belonged to Elisabeth-1.”
You come in here looking for more And oh, you take all you can fit in your arms When you walk out the door
Make Up Your Mind – Florence + the Machine
If I do not survive the construction and delivery of this weapon, I ask that you share the news of my death with Ana and Willa so they can make proper goodbyes. I do this for them. Not for you. Pray for grace, Grandfather.
And although the axe is heavy It just sits in my hands
Landfill – Daughter
“You’ve always been my favorite, Elisabeth. Please…”
Wipe away your tear stains Thought you said you didn’t feel pain
Which Witch – Florence + the Machine
“Perhaps our legacy should be burnt to the ground,” she says
And it’s my whole heart While tried and tested, it’s mine
Legacy – Unwoman
The new Elisabeth has no mouth or nose. She did not consider them necessary. She'll see. But somehow, I could still see the wonder in her eyes as she leaned over me. “You're my grandfather,” she seemed to say. “Aren't you?”
The End Of Love – Florence + the Machine
“Legacy first… Elisabeth,” he says.
We were a family pulled from a flood You tore the floorboards up And let the river rush in
Tomorrow – Daughter
Repeating myself over and over, hoping something will change, but I know it's coming. Blood and betrayal.
But don't bring tomorrow 'Cause I already know I'll lose you
Lament – Destiny 2: Beyond Light OST
There was a world where we were a happy family. This isn't it. We both know it.
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ratwife77 · 3 months
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Okay okay okay here is the first chapter
@kaytheday
Title: He Was Always Doomed (subject to change)
Summary: Dallas had to have left New York for a reason, but he never talked about it. It didn’t take a detective to figure out why he didn’t talk about it, but nobody knew what “it” was. After his death, an old friend of his calls, wondering what happened to him. Seeing the parallels, he launches into what happened.
Warning: there is an oc here. Also, there is death, violence, and abuse. Smoking as well, drinking will probably appear later.
Word count: 1608
Notes: please critique this. I’m begging, I want to be a better writer for you all and myself.
Suddenly, the phone rang in the dark apartment. Tiredly, Tucker made his way across the room, picking up the phone and answering. Sluggish, he didn’t even speak fast enough to say hello before Buck said, “Dallas is dead, Tucker.” He went to put the phone down, but Buck knew exactly what he was doing. “Don’t hang up.”
Tucker didn’t. If the kid was dead, he wanted to at least know why, he finally decided. “What happened to him?”
“Pointed a gun at the fuzz.” Tucker and Buck were both wrought with disbelief, but Buck still tried to give him the facts.
“That’s stupid. Even he knows better than that!” Shoulders going up, whole body tensing, he was sure that he’d taught him better.
“He did, though. They put it in the newspaper.. I’ll mail it to you,” Buck told his cousin.
“Fine… thanks for telling me.” Hanging the phone up in a hurry, he began to pace, mind racing.
Slowly, the next few days went by. After receiving the newspaper, he read through it, surprised by the story about Dallas being a hero. The other two boys, he didn’t recognize, but he read that one had died from complications related to the church fire. The other intrigued him. Maybe he knew what had happened?
Soon enough, he had called Buck again, and he asked what the boy’s number was.
————————————————————————
Pony’d had it rough. With all his friends dead, gone, or still grieving themselves, he didn’t know who to turn to. Didn’t have a mom or a dad, and while Darry tried to provide, he wasn’t either one. He’d been trying to bury his nose in a book, but it wasn’t as interesting as it used to be, and he couldn’t focus.
The phone rang, and he jumped up, surprised. Nobody else was home, so he went and answered it. “Hello?”
“Hi. I’m an old friend of Dallas’s.” Pony’s eyes bugged, and he was thankful that the guy on the other line couldn’t see him.
Not sure what to say, he said, “Oh…”
“I was wondering what happened to him. Do you know?”
Pony felt a sinking feeling, and he went quiet. “Uh- yeah.” Feeling about ready to get back to bed, he went to hang up. However, Tucker spoke up.
“Don’t hang up.” His voice was strangely pleading.
“Why’d you call me?”
The kid sounded like he was trying not to crumble. “You’re the kid from the newspaper. You saved those kids with Dallas.”
“Oh. Well, the newspaper explains why they…” Clearly, the kid couldn’t stomach the idea of them dying, his voice cracking at the end.
Tucker was losing patience. He knew it wasn’t this guy’s fault his friend died, but he snapped. “I know that Dallas wouldn’t point a gun at the fuzz!”
In a quiet voice, the younger of the two spoke. “He wanted to die.”
He had known. He had known that was going to be the answer, but he didn’t want to believe it. “Why?”
Eventually, Ponyboy told the whole story. Noticing the parallels, Tucker began, “Dallas got into trouble like that a couple years ago.” He continued, “He was real upset when he came to me.”
————————————————————————-
His stomach dropped when he walked into his father’s dingy apartment, and he knew it was over. His life was over. Head swiveling as he was punched, he knew his time was up. His gut twisted as he was kicked, lying on the ground and unable to get up. His heart squeezed, knowing exactly what he was in for as another kick came.
He spat blood out, tasting the iron from the punch. It was a heavy feeling, just being unable to do anything–helpless–like a kicked puppy. Dallas was sure he was down for the count. But he couldn’t just give in.
Suddenly, the chance came. Struggling to his feet, he held the gun to his father’s head like he’d always wanted to. It was cold in his hand, freezing. The gun rattled as his hand shook violently, still against his old man’s temple. Ears ringing, the room spinning, he was disoriented and distraught, and by God, he was scared. The anger and fear fueled his hatred.
“You won’t do it.” He was so sure of himself, smug.
At first, he wasn’t sure if his father had said that or he had thought it. He wasn’t so sure about this. All he knew was that he’d never be beat like that again... not over his dead body. He smelled iron. His own blood. That was a great reminder of it all.
His finger lightly grasped the trigger, then his grip got tighter as he steeled his resolve. He pulled the trigger. All of a sudden, his ears rang so loud he couldn’t hear anything and he dropped the gun as it kicked back, eyes widening. He’d really shot him, and he barely realized it. He didn’t feel quite there, like he’d gotten on some sort of drug.
But he didn’t have time to freak out. Jail wasn’t pretty, and Dallas had to get out of it. At least he knew where to go, he thought.
Tucker would know. He always seemed to. Tough, but he’d always been there, at least. Gave him a brown leather jacket and a necklace that he’d probably stolen, but Dallas liked ‘em well enough anyway.
Hurriedly, Dallas made off, not even glancing behind him.
The air outside felt strange. It hadn’t changed, even after the shitshow that’d went on inside. Felt like it should’ve, but the world kept on turning. The gentle warmth of the day was eerie. Didn’t it know what just happened? That he’d had the shit beat out of him and pushed back harder than he thought he would?
His palms were soaked, he realized. Shaking still, too. Quickly, he wiped them off on his worn out jeans.
He’d arrived.
He rapped on the door, hoping, praying, that he’d get Tucker’s help. Soon enough, the older boy came to the door. His black hair was hanging in his eyes like always, and he was sporting a goatee. But he was tall, strong, and box-like– the type that intimidated most. Wise ones didn’t fear that, but his darting glances at everything, calculating and cool. He’d gotten smart.
Because of that, he was always on Dallas about thinking before he acted. Sure, Tucker was still impulsive occasionally, like any hood was, but he could get himself out of it when he did dumb shit. As a leader, he had to keep his head and stay more reasonable, less emotional, than Dallas could manage.
Before Dallas got a word in, Tucker asked, “What is it, kid? You look like you’ve been through the mill.” His eyes crinkled slightly, brows coming together as he looked the smaller boy over. He had wrinkles prematurely from all the stress.
“I killed him,” he said. Knowing that Tucker would need him to elaborate, he continued, “I killed my old man. Shot him.”
If he wasn’t sober before, the wall of a man was then, straightening.
Quickly, he finished, “I need out, now. Man, I’m dying here or gettin’ locked up.” His voice didn’t sound quite right, like he was underwater, Dallas realized. Desperation had leaked into his tone, and he looked more pitiful than he ever had. He was tough–everybody thought it–but then, he was human, not so icy. Scared and hurt and angry. Just a kid that had been stomped to the ground all his life. With bruises covering his torso and a black eye, he’d clearly had about enough. He’d killed a man. What would happen to him?
Tucker’s eyes looked strange, and his heart pounding. A chill ran through him. Nothing like this ended well, but he could damn well try to help him, even if he was doomed to die like a hood, desperate and violent, like he was now.
The cool wind nearly blew the door shut, and Tucker pushed it back open. “Kid, listen, and listen good.”
Dallas didn’t listen to anybody, but he tried to listen then. Clenching his fists, he was trying to ground himself. His ears were still ringing.
“Are you paying attention? Damn it..” His voice sounded like mumbling, and Dallas went to speak but found that everything was too muddled to put into words. His hands were still sweating, and he wiped them off but barely felt the denim of his jeans against his rough hands.
“You good? Kid?”
“I’m fine.”
Noticing that Dallas looked ready to snap, he gave up on it and just went on. “You need to take the train.. you know the place we had our last gang fight?” Simply nodding, he prompted him to continue. “Yeah.. it’s near there. So you’ll take that train, and it’ll bring you about a quarter ‘a the way. Save some cash that way.. I don’t have enough to pay for the whole trip right now.” Dallas didn’t look too surprised. It was a long way down.
He laughed, loud and full sounding, removing some of the tension. “Coulda picked a better time to get in trouble.” Dallas gave a slight smile, but it was pretty forced.
“So, you’ll get off and take a bus down to Tulsa, Oklahoma. I’ve got a cousin there, he’ll house you. But you’ll have to get your own food ‘n all…” He paused, finally taking a breath and lighting himself a smoke. God knows, he needed one. “Just make sure you tell him I sent you. Bully him enough and he won’t give you any trouble, if that doesn’t work for long enough.”
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pooopopop · 1 year
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I've seen nearly all of J2M's panels, interviews, posts, read articles about them and their own provided works etc. I find them all observationally fascinating and approach trying to understand them and their different life experiences with an open mind and can acknowledge that certain situations aren't always going to equal the whole truth of a famous someone because I will never know them personally and therefore cannot ask directly. Conventions/panels, for instance: they're for entertainment purposes, part humor and sarcasm, part truth. Stories, interactions, are often going to be embellished.
Whilst none of them are perfect — literally no one is! — and of course I don't know them on an intimate, personal level, I still feel very confident in saying that they're inherently good people, based on the conclusions I've reached from my own research. That doesn't mean I'm incapable of scrutinising certain behavior or thinking critically just because I'm not agreeing with your opinions.
I could continue to refute a lot of your points individually by offering a different perspective (and draw attention to where your so-called facts are simply incorrect) but I don't think persisting with circular arguments is a worthwhile use of time. You're entitled to feel differently about these things and clearly have made firm decisions based on the "evidence" you've gathered about Misha in particular. I rest assured knowing your POV is not the majority. ✌️
I mean you’ve been sending me long anons for days already and I’ve gone to the trouble of providing sources for all my claims for *you*, I don’t know why you couldn’t do the same if you’re already invested in talking to me anyways. If there’s individual claims I made that you take issue with because you don’t think they’re credible and I didn’t supply my sources, please be specific, and I’ll provide what I can to show either what I’m referring to or how it brought me to having my opinion. I think people just make excuses and justify questionable behavior in order to keep their attachments to them. Even if you think you’re looking at them critically and from a distance, you’re still fostering a parasocial relationship, and nobody is “inherently good”, least of which are rich celebrities. That doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy them. I enjoy Norm Macdonald, the IASIP cast, and a lot of other people without needing to make sure I’m weighing their every sin and good deed on a scale, in order to keep enjoying them.
The difference is that these people constantly go to conventions and everybody besides J2 is pretty accessible. Misha in particular has gone out of his way to foster this environment where he knows the happenings in the fandom and recognizes fangirls, acknowledges them, responds to them on social media, sometimes meets up with them IRL, and has had things like Gish and his community phone number where he’s been even MORE accessible and uses terms of endearments with everybody. The last part feels especially suspect to me because it proves he’s speaking to an audience of fangirls (and people of whatever adjacent gender who are attracted to men, obviously, but we’ll still refer to them as fangirls for brevity’s sake and because I think calling them “minions” is stupid infighting shit that aligns me with J2ers).
I’m speaking to people on here because tumblr is a historically horny and obsessive fandom space and people are joining this fandom all the time and they are only made aware of whatever the circle jerk tells them first. Not only does it foster a bad relationship with middle aged men that you don’t know, and if you did know then it’s because they met you as someone who is a fan of them, it also fosters a bad community environment. People end up having whole friendship networks that depend on unquestionable loyalty to these men, and a hierarchy is created based on who proves themselves to be more devout; in their determination to defend these men, defend the people that they surround themselves with, defend their beliefs, and their every action big OR small. From Misha supporting ICE, the Clintons, the predatory advice in the threesome’s handbook, to the dumbest little things like how he made a Threads account and positioned it as a better alternative to Twitter. This fandom routinely cannibalizes itself and purges the whistleblowers out.
and I got triggered by that karla gif set the other day lol. SailorSally joined the fandom after November 5th and knows nothing but praise for the man, and while I didn’t send those anons to her I can sympathize with them. The cockles fandom can be the worst sometimes because they really push the narrative that he’s queer (and gay for jensen) because they think it’s a testament to his character and therefore it discredits a lot of the shit I’m complaining about. Even if they’re not tinhatters, then they think it positions Misha’s virtues above Jensen, because I guess he’s supposed to be like a bullied gay kid who is still so loving and affectionate in the face of Jensen’s Toxic Masculinity and Homophobia, or something, despite Jensen having gay gossip rags and magazines profiling him as a closeted cutie for way longer with a lot more persistence. Tbh
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obeymeoasis · 3 years
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Demon Bros React: MC Defends Them From Nasty Remarks
Warnings: Explicit language, MC being mildly violent (throwing/kicking things).
Lucifer
Lucifer had just finished some paperwork for Diavolo and was on his way to R.A.D to deliver it.
In the hallway he could hear two demons talking and laughing. As he got closer he heard them say "Lucifer" and instinctively ducked into a nearby alcove.
"Lucifer's such an asshole." "I know, right? He acts like he's so much better than the rest of us when really, he just has a huge stick up his ass. It's no wonder he doesn't have any friends. Even his own brothers don't like him!" "He'll probably spend the rest of his life being Diavolo’s little bitch."
He would be lying if the comments didn't make him angry. But it was far from the worst thing he had heard about himself and would definitely not be the last time someone spoke ill of him.
With a weary sigh, Lucifer turned toward the south entrance where he could walk in order to avoid the demons. He could have strode past and glared at them menacingly. He could have made them grovel on their knees. But he was honestly exhausted and looked forward to this day being over as soon as possible. Plus, it would reflect poorly on Lord Diavolo if he started a fight with some lesser demons over this.
Suddenly, the chatter of the demons was interrupted by a loud thumping sound followed by the sound of one of the demons screeching in pain.
Lucifer quickly turned around to see- Oh no. You were standing in front of the demons, rage clear on your face. The demon who had yelled in pain was crouched on the ground holding his bruised shoulder. A History of the Devildom textbook was open on the ground, pages crumpled.
Did you... did you just throw a textbook at a demon?
Before he could even move, he heard your angry voice. "Listen here you fuckers. How dare you talk about Lucifer like that. He's one of the kindest, most intelligent, most thoughtful beings I've ever met. And you have no right to speak of him like that! I love him!"
Lucifer's heart burst at your declaration, his cheeks warming in pleasure. The two demons however, who had been gaping at you in shock, were now beginning to look murderous. The injured one stood up and slowly inched toward you, a vicious grin on his face. "Oh, is that so? And what the hell is a weak human like you going to do about it?"
You opened your mouth to speak but before you could say anything, Lucifer picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "Love, I appreciate how you stood up for me. There's not many people who have done so for me before. But any more would cause trouble. And also, please don't throw textbooks at others, no matter how much you think they deserve it."
With a smug smile on his face, Lucifer began to walk toward the dorms. You, however, were struggling to turn your head around, still yelling and pointing angrily at the demons. "This isn't over! Sleep with your eyes wide open! You'll be hearing from my lawyer!"
He really did love you.
Mammon
Mammon was at the casino on a Monday night. It was lively as always, crowds of people playing group games and others drinking and mingling.
But for some reason, Mammon felt like being alone. He was in one of the more quiet corners, playing the slot machines.
He honestly should have been back at the dorms doing his homework. He was here because he felt like he had to, but his heart wasn't really in it. Mammon thought about packing it up early and texting you to see if you wanted to hang out.
The sudden sound of glass shattering broke through his thoughts. There was some sort of commotion going on and Mammon could hear angry yelling and cursing, some kind of argument.
Like many of the other customers, Mammon drifted toward the noise wanting to see what had happened. His heart sank when he saw you in the middle of the crowd, still in your R.A.D uniform, arguing with an older demon who Mammon recognized as a regular. They had played some games together before that always ended in angry accusations. The remains of a drinking glass lay shattered on the floor.
Mammon quickly rushed to your side. "MC, what the hell are you doing here?! What happened?" Up close he could see how livid you looked, you were trembling with fury.
The older demon opened his mouth while gesturing at his ruined clothes. "This bitch threw a drink at me! I should have them arrested! Do you know how much this tuxedo costs?" Ignoring him, you turned to face Mammon.
"Mams, Lucifer told me to check up on you and you weren't answering my calls. So I decided to come in person to make sure you were okay. But then I heard this asshole saying terrible things about you to his friends, calling you a liar and a cheater and all kinds of horrible names that you're not!"
Mammon was shocked to see you were struggling to fight off your tears, your lower lip quivering. "I know how caring and genuine and loving you are and I couldn't stand by while he said those things about you! None of it’s true!"
Overcome with emotion Mammon embraced you fiercely, shielding you from the other demon. "Oh, babe. Ya really are a special one.” Mammon gently stroked your hair and whispered in your ear. “I don't care about what he said, but thanks for sticking up for me. I love ya so much."
"Now let's make a run for it so that demon doesn't kill us."
Leviathan
Levi was slowly getting used to being in a relationship with you in public. At first, interactions were limited to the privacy of his room: cuddling and watching movies, gaming together, reading manga together. But now he looked forward to waiting for you after classes and walking home with you while holding hands.
His face got really red and he had a hard time making eye contact with you but still, he thought it was an improvement.
Right now he was waiting for you outside your classroom, scrolling through his D.D.D to kill time. Suddenly, he heard someone call your name.
“MC, you’re dating Levi right?” At the sound of his name he peeked in the window to see you cornered by three demons. He saw you nod. 
The demons began to barrage you with questions. “Why are you with a loser like that? Doesn’t he like never leave his room?” “He’s honestly the ugliest out of his family. I don’t believe that Levi and Asmo are related.” “You don’t actually find him attractive, do you?” “Are you with him ‘cause he’s like the easiest to control?” 
Each word felt like someone was piercing his heart. These were all things that he had thought or wondered himself, days when the darkness seemed to win over his mind. But to have them spoken out loud, especially in front of you, it was unbearable. It was as if his lowest and most shameful thoughts were being justified.
He was afraid to hear what your answers would be. Biting his lower lip, Levi turned to head home by himself but flinched at the loud sound of something slamming into the wall. He peeked inside the window again and saw you standing there, furious, your hands clenched into fists. You had apparently kicked one of the desks into the wall, black scuff marks clearly visible against the white paint.
“Alright, listen here you despicable fucks because I’m only going to say this once. My relationship with Levi is private, meaning all of your questions can be answered with ‘none of your damn business’. But since you’ve gone out of your way to waste my time, I’ll let you know this: Leviathan is more beautiful, inside and out, than any of you will ever be in your entire miserable lives. I honestly don’t think you deserve to breathe the same air as him and I hope Levi summons Lotan to devour the three of you."
Levi’s jaw was on the floor. He had never heard you speak that way. He had never had someone defend him so fiercely. His thoughts were interrupted by the classroom door suddenly slamming open as you walked out."
“Oh Levi, tell me you didn’t hear anything just now.” Your eyes were wide and you looked at him nervously.
Levi grabbed your hand and held it tight between two of his own. “I did, but it’s alright. Thanks for what you said.”
“Anything for my Lord of Shadows.”
Satan
Satan was heading to the library, your usual after-school spot. Some days you two spent hours there doing homework, reading, or just chatting quietly about your day before heading to dinner.
As he approached the table he saw you sitting down with a stranger seated opposite you. Leaning closer he was relieved to see it was a classmate you were friendly with, someone he knew you hung out with occasionally.
Satan was about to say hello when he stopped at the mention of his name. "MC, are you sure it's wise to be this involved with Satan?"
He quickly ducked behind a nearby bookshelf. Satan usually wasn't one to eavesdrop like this but the question concerned him.
"MC, I'm asking you for your sake. Satan is dangerous. He's violent and cruel. There are rumors about him beating up other demons and doing horrible things to them. What if he tries to hurt you too?"
Satan flinched. Sure his wrath had led him to do some destructive things before, but it was never without reason. Is this how you saw him as well? His thoughts began to spiral. What if you grew scared of him? Of his wrath? What if you flinched at his touch? That would hurt more than any of the rumors that swirled about him. 
Satan saw you take a deep breath before speaking. "Well, I appreciate you talking to me about this. I know you meant the best and were just thinking about me. But I promise you, you have nothing to be worried about. Satan would never hurt me."
He saw your friend shake their head, exasperated. "But you don't know that! What if one day he can't control himself and has an outburst or something?"
You replied carefully. "Satan is gentle. Incredibly so. He always treats me with nothing but respect and kindness. And Satan's not some kind of monster. He knows how to control himself and his powers. I love him. I really do. And until he decides to stop loving me, I want to be by his side."
He saw your friend huff irritably and get up to walk away. "Suit yourself, MC. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Satan took this as his cue to walk over. Your eyes brightened at the sight of him and you started to ask him about his day, acting as if nothing had happened. Satan played along for a bit, but then reached across the table for your hand and began playing with your fingers.
His hand was shaking. "I'll never stop loving you, you know. For as long as I live you're the only one for me. I love you, MC."
Asmodeus
Asmo was thrilled when you said you wanted to go dancing with him because he was usually the one pestering you to do things. He was having so much fun with you tonight, twirling you around on the dance floor and marveling how beautiful you looked under the shimmering lights of the club.
He was beginning to feel a bit hot, however, and excused himself to the bathroom, making sure you were safe on of the couches with a bottle of water in your hand.
Asmo had just finished touching up his makeup and adjusting his outfit when he heard two demons near the entrance of the bathroom gossiping loudly about him.
“Did you see what he was wearing tonight? He might as well have come naked instead of wearing those scraps of fabric he thinks counts as an outfit.” “My friend slept with Asmo once. She said he’s super easy, he’s willing to pretty much sleep with anyone.” “I bet him and that human won’t last another week. Once he’s done with them he’ll trash ‘em and move on to the next one, like he always does.”
Being the Avatar of Lust meant that Asmo had heard these kinds of comments before, whispered in the hallways at R.A.D or the dark hallways of nightclubs. It never really got easier listening to them though, and he realized he was biting down hard on his lower lip, his nails digging into his palm. 
Asmo contemplated what to do. He didn’t want to keep you waiting by yourself outside but he also didn’t want to run into the demons talking about him. Their comments affected him more than he thought they would. Maybe it was because you were involved. He wouldn’t do that to you. You knew that right? He would never treat you like a plaything.
Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves Asmo schooled his face into an expression of careless indifference. He took a step outside, ready to greet his "fans", but was surprised to see that you had gotten there first.
And what a sight you were. Despite being much shorter than the two demons, it seemed you were the least bit intimidated. Your glare was ice cold as you gestured wildly at the two of them, and moving closer Asmo realized you were screaming.
"How fucking dare you say such vile things? You don't know the first thing about Asmo. You're really going to shame someone for what they wear?! For what they do in the privacy of their bedroom?!"
You pointed angrily at the demons, who seemed too stunned to move or say anything. "People like you make me fucking sick. You're despicable! Talking as if you're so high and mighty when all you do is judge others! How dare you? You cowards!"
Asmo could see you were getting more and more enraged and your hands were beginning to tremble. He leapt forward to stand between you and the demons and put his hands gently on your shoulders. Once he saw that you were okay, he gave you a passionate kiss, his mouth hot and needy against yours.
You kissed him back for a moment but moved away to hiss, "Karens, Asmo! Karens in the fucking Devildom, who would have thought?!"
"I know, darling. Let's head home. We can have a nice, relaxing bubble bath together."
Beelzebub
Beel was looking through the menu, deciding between a couple of his favorite dishes. It was your one year anniversary and despite his insistent protests, you had remained firm in your decision to pay for that night’s meal. Ever since you and Beel began dating, he pretty much always paid for your meals together because of how much he ate. But tonight, you wanted to be the one to treat him for once.
Beel knew you had secretly been saving up Grimm and he’d feel so guilty if you spent it all on him. Which was why he was trying to decide between a couple of different things, when normally he would have ordered everything on the page.
“Babe, please order whatever you want. I can practically see the thoughts turning in your head. I told you that I wanted to pay for tonight and I’m going to keep that promise. I want this to be a special night for us, so don’t worry about it.” Before he could protest, you called the waiter over.
Beel sighed and knew there was no changing your mind on this. You were incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be. He rattled off his usual order as the waiter frantically scribbled down notes, struggling to keep up. Once finished, Beel handed over the menus and smiled at how cute you looked, a mixture of pride and smugness on your face.
But your expression soon turned sour as you heard the conversation from a couple sitting a few tables over. Their voices were intentionally loud and they kept sneaking glances at your table as if to watch your reactions.
“Oh my lord, honey did you see how much food that guy just ordered? What an absolute pig!” “I saw, darling. I honestly pity his date right now, they must be soooo embarrassed.” “Is there anyone who wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen in public with such a selfish glutton?”
Beel’s heart felt like it had sunk. Embarrassed? Was MC embarrassed to be seen with him? Panicking, Beel thought back to all of the dates he’d had with MC so far. He realized that they ate out a good majority of the time they hung out, with Beel eating his normal enormous portions each time. Oh no, what had he done?
Head bowed, Beel slowly looked up at you, afraid to see what kind of expression you were making. But to his surprise, you didn’t look embarrassed or ashamed at all. You looked like you were going to murder someone.
He watched as you cleared your throat and then began speaking even more loudly than the couple had been. “OH BEEL, MY HANDSOME, KIND, LOVING, STRONG, SEXY, TALENTED BOYFRIEND. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! YOU’RE HONESTLY SO AMAZING AND ONE OF THE QUALITIES I LOVE ABOUT YOU MOST IS THAT YOU’RE NOT A JUDGMENTAL ASSHOLE WHO MAKES RUDE INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS TO STRANGERS ABOUT THINGS THAT ARE NONE OF THEIR DAMN BUSINESS!” 
Beel felt his lips inch into a smile and he flushed with amusement and happiness. But you weren’t finished just yet. “EXCUSE ME WAITER?” 
Your waiter practically ran to the table and looked between you two nervously, then at the couple glaring daggers in your direction. “COULD YOU PLEASE BRING US ANOTHER MENU? MY BOYFRIEND WASN’T FINISHED WITH ORDERING WHAT HE WANTS. OH BEEL, I LOVE HOW MUCH YOU EAT. HOW COULD SOMEONE BE EMBARRASSED OF A WONDERFUL GUY LIKE YOU?”
Beel took the menu and began listing some more foods at random, not really paying attention. He was too busy thinking about how much he loved you, how nobody aside from Belphie had ever stood up for him like that, had protected him like that. His cheeks felt like they were about to split from how much he was smiling.
When the waiter finally left, looking frazzled, Beel made his way over to your side of the table. He knelt down and nuzzled into your neck before giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. “MC, you’re amazing.”
Belphegor
Belphie had to admit, the gardens were a pretty nice place for a nap. Earlier in the day you had practically dragged him outside claiming that you were bored of sleeping in his room. As if that was even possible.
At first he was pretty annoyed that you were making him get up and move around. But the newly washed picnic blanket, the cool breeze rustling through the trees, and the light smell of flowers in the air all contributed to a very nice environment for a nap.
Belphie rested his head on your lap, already feeling his eyelids growing heavier. Your fingers gently combed through his hair, lightly scratching against his scalp, and he practically purred.
He guessed he had been asleep for about ten minutes when he awoke to the sound of your voice and something prodding against his knee.
Irritated at the disturbance, Belphie looked up to see two R.A.D students he recognized for always causing trouble. He looked over to see you scowling and guessed you had been telling them to leave so they wouldn't wake him up.
One of the students leered down, blocking out the light, and used the tip of his foot to poke Belphie's knee again. "Well the two of you make an odd fucking pair, huh?” He sneered, “Personally, I don’t date people who have MURDERED me in the past but what do I know? Love works in all kinds of mysterious ways.” You flinched as if someone had slapped you and Belphie growled, his hands curling into fists.
The other student leaned down to clap Belphie on the shoulder. “I gotta admit I didn’t know you had it in you, chief! I always thought you were...” He gave Belphie a once-over before adding “Well, everyone thinks you’re a bit fucking useless, eh? But I’m glad to see you’re capable of something.”
Belphie opened his mouth to reply venomously but was interrupted by the most horrifying sound coming from your mouth. It sounded like a combination of wailing and screeching as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. It was difficult to hear what exactly you were saying because of how hard you were crying, but Belphie could make out “How could you say that?!” and “Leave him alone!” among the screams. 
The two students had their hands over their ears, their faces twisted into grimaces of pain. One shouted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Worried, Belphie put a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you down but you shrugged it off, continuing to cry and wail. Pretty soon other students began gathering around you, whispering amongst themselves and looking to see what all the noise and commotion was about. It was difficult to ignore you when you kept yelling things like “You’re horrible! Horrible! Leave us alone!” 
The two instigators looked at each other for a brief moment before deciding to run off, not wanting to get involved any further. And as soon as they left, it was like a switch had been turned off. You stopped crying and screaming immediately. If he hadn’t been there from the beginning, Belphie never would have guessed that you had been crying. Your face was perfectly calm and you sat relaxed with your hands folded, the picture of innocence.
“Belphie, don’t worry about what those two idiots said. We’ve talked about it enough and we’ve both worked it out, haven’t we? And you’re not useless. You know how much I love you and care about you. You mean so much to me.” 
Belphie leaned over to take your hand in his trembling one. He reached down to brush a stray leaf out of your hair before whispering, “MC, you’re fucking terrifying sometimes. I love you.”
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mackenzielovee · 3 years
Note
Hi bestie, your writing is just 👩‍🍳💋. If possible to do a y/n with Rafe where they fight and reader sleeps in the guest room. When Rafe realizes y/n is not in their bedroom goes and sleeps in the guest room with them.
a/n: hey baby! thank you so much for requesting this. it was fun to write. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, kissing), mentions of drug use/abuse
Word Count: 2.4k+
my writing
apologies - rafe cameron
You stop pacing Rafe's bedroom to check your phone once again. The time keeps ticking by, and Rafe keeps not calling you back. He was supposed to be home hours ago; the two of you had plans to go out to the dock and eat dinner, hanging out and watching the sky. He had told you to be at his house at eight. It's now nearing midnight, and you haven't heard a peep. You pick up your phone to dial him again just as his door knob turns and Rafe slowly peaks his head in the room.
When he brings his eyes up to yours, he smiles quickly and sweetly, knowing he's in trouble but trying to soften to you up. You throw your phone back down on his bed and turn around, setting your hands on your hips and taking a deep breath. At least he's fine.
"Hey, baby," Rafe speaks, his voice sickeningly sweet.
You turn back around and watch as he carefully enters the room and closes the door, putting his back up against it. It's like he's trying to take up as little room as possible.
"Well, now that I know you're alive, I'm just gonna go home," you sigh, picking up your phone once again from the bed. Rafe takes a step forward, then another, then sets his hands on your arms to try and stop you from moving.
"No, baby, please don't leave," he says. Your eyes flicker up to his, and you instantly notice how bloodshot they are. You take another deep breath and close your eyes, ready to ask him the question you know you don't want the answer to.
"Rafe," you start, your voice calm, "Please tell me you are not high right now."
"I'm not high right now," Rafe says too fast. You look up at him again and can tell instantly that he's lying.
"Are you fucking kidding me, Rafe?" you raise your voice, squirming from his grip, "You're almost four hours late, you come back high, and then you lie about it?"
"Don't fucking yell at me, all right?" Rafe says, even though he raises his voice at you in return.
You roll your eyes and start grabbing your stuff, shoving it into your bag. You just want to go home and not deal with all of this right now.
"Where are you gonna go?" he asks you, his voice thick and accusing.
"Home," you mutter. Rafe scoffs, earning your attention.
"It's midnight and raining out. Just fucking sleep here and we'll work it out in the morning."
You roll your eyes at him and continue stuffing shit into the bag. Rafe comes over and grabs onto your wrists, stopping you from packing.
"Baby," he says, his voice softer, "Just chill for a second so I can explain, okay?"
You shrug and nod, telling him silently to go ahead and try to explain himself. He swallows before he speaks, so you know this will be good.
"Okay, well, I was out, y'know, with Topper and Kelce, right? We were at the Club. And Barry came by and started saying some shit to me and it just turned into a mess, okay? I had to handle shit with my sister and her dumbass friends and Topper's all pissed off because she's with John B now-"
"Rafe," you stop him, "I'm missing the part where you forgot to call for four hours and then got high."
He stares down at you, looking almost blindsided by the fact that you're asking him that, then nods his head.
"Okay, yeah," he says, more to himself than to you, "I uh, I lost my phone for a bit."
"You lost your phone for a bit?" you repeat, "Like, it died?"
Rafe considers that for a moment, then ultimately shakes his head.
"No, I just lost it at the Club."
You laugh and nod your head, finally understanding, "Oh, so you were too coked out to keep track of your shit? Nice, Rafe. I'm really glad you felt the need to get high out of your mind before you spend the night with me. That makes me feel really good."
You side-step him and continue to collect your things while Rafe throws his hands up in the air out of frustration.
"Jesus, that's not what it's about," he groans, "Barry showing up just threw me off and it fucking stressed me out-"
"You don't have to do coke every time you get stressed out, Rafe!" you turn and scream at him. He moves his head back and stares at you, clearly hurt by your outburst.
"Okay, look, I apologized-"
"You didn't, actually," you interrupt him, watching as Rafe replays this whole interaction over in his head and realizes he, in fact, has not actually apologized.
"All right. I am so sorry that I wasn't home on time and that I didn't call. Some shit just came up and I had to handle it but it was shitty of me not to call. If the tables were turned, I'd be mad, too. So, I'm sorry, baby."
Your shoulders fall as you start to melt under his term of endearment for you. Even after being together for so long, him calling you 'baby' still makes butterflies go crazy in your stomach.
"I accept your apology," you say quietly, watching his eyes shoot up to yours and a grin erupt on his face, "But I'm still gonna go home. You wasted my night, Rafe. I just want to be by myself."
His eyes fall to the floor again as he speaks, "It's pouring. Please just stay. I'll drive you home in the morning."
You stare at the boy, the man, you love so much and give in. Him worrying about you is always enough to make your heart melt, no matter how mad you can get at him.
"Fine," you mumble, dropping your bag onto the floor of Rafe's bedroom.
Rafe comes over and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and holding you tightly. He pretends to not get upset when you don't return his hug. You're still mad, annoyed, and frustrated.
"I'm gonna go shower," you tell him as you pull away.
He wants to ask if he can join you, but he knows you're not in the mood for him to be playing around. So, he lets go of you and watches as you walk over to his bathroom door and close the door behind you.
You take a long shower. The warm water feels so good on your stressed muscles and Rafe being in the other room and not with you is comforting as well. Of course, you love him, but you also love your space and need to not be around him sometimes.
When you come out of the bathroom, only wrapped in a towel, you find Rafe fast asleep on his side of the bed. You try not to be upset with him because you know he had a stressful day and hr's exhausted, but you're also mad because of everything plus the fact that he's high and pretty much just passed out on you.
You pick up one of Rafe's shirts from the floor and then slide a pair of his boxers on, then grab your phone and head for the door. There's a guest room down the hall from Rafe's bedroom that you are going to sleep in, because you want to be alone and you really don't want to listen to Rafe snore all night after he's already irritated the shit out of you.
Your bare feet scurry across the hardwood floor and over to the guest room door, quietly pushing it open and slipping inside. You pull the covers back on the bed and crawl inside, relieved to be cuddling into a bed even if it isn't your own. The sleep is already trying to take over your body, so you don't even have time to browse your phone. It's time for sleep.
Almost the second your head hits the pillow, you're out. All of that worrying about where Rafe had been and if he had been okay had really worn you out.
You're waken up from your sleep when you hear the guest bedroom door creak open. Everything in the Cameron house is ancient, so everything creaks and cracks. You turn around in the bed and face the door, seeing your boyfriend's face squished in the doorway. He smiles softly when he sees you, but you can still see the sleep lining his eyes.
"Rafe," you grumble, pulling the sheets over your head.
"Baby," he says back, a playfulness in his voice.
He comes into the room and closes the door softly behind him. You feel him try to pull the sheets up from your grip, so you pull them tighter.
"Scoot over, baby," he whispers, so you sigh but obey.
Rafe breaks the sheets from your grasp and dives into the bed beside you, quick to wrap one of his arms around you and pull you close.
"I was worried when I woke up and you were gone," he admits to you, staring at the ceiling, "Why are you sleeping in here?"
You sigh, not really wanting to talk. You just want your sleep. Clearly, Rafe has other plans.
"You were already asleep when I got out of the shower," you say, attitude present in your voice.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he says quickly, "I just crashed."
You want to make a comment about how, of course he crashed, because he was high when he got home. Instead, you move your head down to his chest, making him relax.
"It's okay," you barely whisper.
Rafe sighs, knowing it's not, "I'm going to do better."
You don't respond. You can feel yourself starting to get emotional at his promises, because he's made them before.
"I mean it, baby," he tells you when you don't answer, "I really fucked up tonight. I know that. I never, ever meant to skip out on a date with you or make you angry with me. I made a really bad judgment call and it will never happen again."
You bury your face into his chest, finally allowing yourself to completely breathe him in for the first time tonight. Although Rafe screws up a lot, one thing he does well is apologize. He's said absolutely everything that you have wanted to hear since he ran late tonight.
"Promise me," you say against him, feeling your tears start to come up again.
"I promise you."
You look up at him in the darkness, then crawl up against his body to leave a kiss on his lips. It's gentle and sweet, leaving Rafe wanting more when you pull away.
"I forgive you," you tell him, bringing a hand up to play with his hair. He closes his eyes under your touch, grateful to have such an amazing woman by his side.
"I love you so much, baby," he whispers.
"I love you, too," you reply, then sit up in the bed.
You crawl on top of your boyfriend, feeling him sit up so you can have a better seat on his lap. You straddle him and bring your lips down his cheeks and to his neck, knowing you're getting to him when he moves his head to the side to give you more space to work with.
"Mmm," he hums, his hands falling all the way back to shamelessly grab your ass.
"Just because we missed our date doesn't mean we have to skip out on the best part," you whisper in his ear, purposely trying to drive him crazy. It works, because he lets out a moan at your words.
"Holy shit, that's right, baby," he nods, leaning forward and kissing you. He bites your bottom lip and pulls it back before he let's go, knowing you love when he does that.
"You're gonna take care of me, right?" you ask him, keeping your voice low.
He brings one hand around from your ass and starts to rub you through his own boxers you have on, smirking when he realizes why the fabric feels so familiar.
"Don't I always?" he asks, "You were so mad at me earlier, and still put my fucking boxers on, huh?"
You grin but bury your head in his neck so he can't tell. Rafe's smirk just widens when you don't respond, so he slowly and carefully brings his hands up to the top of the boxers, then bringing his hands down to your core. You know he's going slow on purpose to tease you, and it's working. He always drives you crazy.
"Rafe," you finally whine, wanting him to do something other than graze your center.
"Hmm, baby? You want more?"
He smirks when he can feel you get even wetter as he speaks. He knows exactly what turns you on.
"Yes, please," you nod, doing your best to not sound impatient.
"So polite, baby," he grins, bringing his lips to your cheek and down to your neck as he pushes his fingers in you.
You moan as two fingers enter you, feeling Rafe start to move them in and out immediately. His grin only widens as he watches you, even being able to see you with your mouth open through the darkness.
"Keep going," you tell him, moaning once again at how good he feels.
He starts to go faster, then brings his other hand up to your mouth and sticks two of those fingers in your mouth.
"I want to hear you," he says quietly, "I know how loud you can get. But I don't want to get us in trouble. Okay, princess?"
You nod, sucking on his fingers in your mouth. He moans and moves his fingers in and out of you even faster. He feels you clench around him, so he knows you're ready. He looks up into your eyes and then pushes his fingers back further into your mouth.
"Come for me, baby, I've got you."
You nod and clench again, then come only a minute later. He smirks as he removes two separate sets of his fingers from your body, bringing the ones that been buried inside your core up to his lips.
"Jesus," you groan, watching him as he licks his fingers clean through the darkness.
"You better not be exhausted, I'm not done with you yet," he warns you.
You smile and lean forward, kissing him roughly and moving your hips against his. He moans in your mouth, not being able to contain himself.
"Shit," he swears when you pull away, "I'm gonna fuck up more often."
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refiwrites · 3 years
Note
can you do a diaval imagine? The reader is familiar with magic but is human. It could be sfw or nsfw. Whatever you’re comfortable with, have a lovely day! :)
Hello love! Sorry I've been late to your request but here, have some protective Diaval :D have a lovely day ahead too!
Protective
Diaval x Female!Reader
Warning/s: One of the guards being a creep, makes it up for fluff at the end!!
Word count: 1,556
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You woke up, rays of sun shining through the window of your room in the castle. After Aurora and Prince Philip were married, you being Aurora’s sister, she wanted you to be with her at all times. Prince Philip was kind enough to let you move in to one of the rooms in the castle.
Your first thought was to go to the balcony, opening up the door to spot a lot of people running through their business on this sunny day. You were thankful enough for the view the balcony gave you, where it out looked the kingdom and it had a very beautiful view when it got dark, something that tends to calm you on sleepless nights.
You closed your eyes shut for a moment, enjoying the peace and the birds that were singing.
Caaw, caaw, caaw
Your brows furrowed, eyes slowly open to spot a rather familiar black raven that now perched upon the railings.
You decided to playfully ignore the Raven for the time being, turning and closing your eyes again and letting the sun hit your face.
Then you felt something nipping on the sleeve of your night gown. Deciding that it was time to greet your friend, you chuckle and looked down at the raven before you.
“Hi there, Diaval, what brings you here?“ You ask, lifting your hand up and petting his head with your finger.
You see his wings shudder after a moment and you continued.
“Is mother around? I’d rather talk to you when you can speak, it’s rather hard to understand you like this.” You laugh.
Truth is, you admired Diaval for quite a while now, both of you grew close when Maleficent first introduced him to you and Aurora. You knew how his shapeshifting works and how he was able to turn into anything that Maleficent wished. You knew originally that he was a raven that was captured, but you were lying if you said you didn’t find his human form alluring.
You were cut off in your daydreaming when your room door opens, revealing Maleficent. You smiled widely, running over to greet her, Diaval following close by.
“Oh, I was wondering where you were.” Maleficent said, and you knew she was referring to Diaval.
“Is he bothering you (Y/N)? You know I could just turn him to a lizard then and there and just send him off flying into the Moors.” Maleficent said to which Diaval whined in an angry way which meant he did not want that.
“Mother, no, don’t worry he’s not causing me trouble.. Though I would appreciate it if you can turn him back to human..” You suggested.
She clicked her tongue and spoke. “I’d turn him back once you’re dressed and downstairs, your sister is looking for you.” Turning on her heel, she walks out of the door, motioning for Diaval to come with her.
Pink rose to your cheeks as you nodded, Diaval turning his head to you.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be long.” You reassured and he reluctantly followed Maleficent.
After bathing and dressing properly, you headed down to meet the others.
“(Y/N), about time you woke up!” Aurora, your sister piped up at you.
“Oh shush Aurora!” You laughed.
You sat with them at the dining hall, though your eyes were searching for black ones. Although Aurora seemed to have taken notice of your attraction towards Diaval that she leaned towards you.
“He’s there, look!” She whispered with a giggle as your eyes snapped in the direction she discreetly pointed at.
And there Diaval was, walking towards the dining hall, skin smooth and white as snow, slicked back hair, the noticeable marks on both sides of his temples, his clothes that lightly exposed his chest, markings that threatened to peek out of his shirt accompanied by his black coat.
You felt that you were taking your sweet long time staring at him as your sister had to pinch your hand to bring you back.
“Oh- uh.. I’m sorry, what was that?” You asked shaking your head to get yourself out of the trance.
On the corner of your eye you saw your sister tried to hide her laugh by covering her mouth with the towel.
“You appear to be distracted lately (Y/N) dear, is everything alright?” Maleficent questioned. You quickly shook your head and decided to make up something.
“No mother, I just woke up funny is all.” You lied and hoped she would take it.
She stared at you for a while before nodding. “Alright.”
You definitely missed how Diaval’s eyes looked at you whilst you were busy coming up with a lie.
After everyone ate and done their duties, it was almost noon and you decided to get some fresh air and strolled through the gardens.
The flowers were exquisite, everywhere you laid your eyes on was a feast of colours. You felt proud that some of the flowers that bloomed were your own since you took most of your time tending to the gardens, seeing them bloom made your heart overwhelmingly happy.
But as you walked, you couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes staring at you, but you shake your head, it was probably just you.
Simply put, you lost track of time and before you know it, it was already sundown. You ought that going back to the castle was a great idea but that idea was taken from your head when a guard stepped up in front of you.
“Oh.. I was just on my way back.. excuse me please.” You excused politely, trying to move out of the guards’ way but he didn’t budge.
A lump in your throat started to form, you still tried to slip through his side but he suddenly gripped your hand, tugging you towards him.
“Let me go,” You spat at the guard “I’m sparing your life, unless you want to be met with the terrible consequences of your actions.”
“Oh? Might as well make this worthwhile.” He said, yanking you close. Before he spoke again, a voice spoke behind him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The guard turned and you had a good look at the owner of the voice. It was Diaval. You thanked the gods for his arrival.
The guard seemed to tense up, but he kept his hand on your wrist firm that it was starting to hurt.
“Or what?”
“Or I could turn into a creature you deeply fear and rip you limb from limb.. slowly..” Diaval said with venom underlying his tone as he inched closer.
The man seemed to come to his senses as he finally let go and stumbled upon his feet to escape.
You stood there frozen and Diaval was quickly on your side, inspecting your hand and your face.
“Did he do anything to you, (Y/N)?” He asked. Diaval was clearly fuming with anger at the man yet he managed to soften his tone when he asked you.
You nodded, holding onto his arm.
“I’ll walk you through your room now, alright?” He asks, searching your eyes for any disagreement, but there was none.
After making it inside your room, you changed into your sleepwear while Diaval waited outside. Once you gave him a signal to come in, you were sat on your bed.
“That bastard’s gonna pay.” You heard Diaval mumble under his breath.
You motioned for him to come over and sit beside you.
“I swear (Y/N), if he decides to lay a finger on you again-“ You cut him off by pressing your lips to his cheek.
“Thank you for saving me back there.”
You didn’t miss how his skin turned lightly red at your action but you continued.
“Although I feel this isn’t an appropriate time to say this but I no longer care.” With a deep breath, you looked at him straight in the eyes and spoke.
“I have been inlove with you for the longest time now, Diaval. I’m surely you’ve taken note someway somehow but here is me saying nothing but the truth. I take it upon me to understand if you don’t happen to feel the same way.”
His eyes widened at your confession as the room stayed silent, all that can be heard was the whispering of the cool night wind, and the occasional birds flying outside.
You fear that you ruined your bond with him as you decided to speak up when he didn’t.
When you opened your mouth, he finally spoke.
“(Y/N), I’ve also laid my eyes on you from the first time we ever met, when we grew close, my attraction only grew into love. It makes me so happy to learn that you feel the same.” He breathed out.
It felt like all your hopes was built back up, you didn’t destroy what you had with him. And most importantly, he loves you back.
You were quick to smile and cup his face, turning him to face you.
You saw how his eyes crinkled when he mirrored your smile and it only made your heart jump.
“I love you, (Y/N).”
“I love you too, Diaval.”
This was one of the happiest nights of your life, you both knew you had to tell Aurora and Maleficent sooner or later but that’s a story for another time.
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Text
An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader
Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.
And I didn't leave the house.
That says a lot about today...
Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...
helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??
I live for it.
Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.
I love you, baby-cakes.
Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.
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For the 5th time writing this :
FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE
Thanks.
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Hell - What was that place, anyway?
Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?
But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.
All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.
But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.
In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.
On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.
The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.
The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.
These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.
Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'
And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.
Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.
He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.
Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...
Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.
Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.
"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.
However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.
"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.
It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.
It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.
He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.
He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.
"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.
Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.
"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.
As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?
It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.
As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...
"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.
What the hell was he turning into?
A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.
She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.
"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.
When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.
Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.
It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.
An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.
As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.
"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.
She was hooked.
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Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.
Yay.
1K notes · View notes
bokukawas · 4 years
Text
two sides of the same coin
pairing; Itadori Yuuji x Reader (x Sukuna, at least kinda/implied)
warnings; i didn’t proofread this at all lol
a/n; woke up this morning with this imagine in mind so naturally i had to get it out of my head
summary;  cuddle time with your boyfriend makes the monster come out... only he doesn’t seem that scary to you / seriously this is just a little something, don’t expect much of this
word count; 1,9k
Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuuji, leans heavily against you as soon as you open the door to him. Pressing his face into the crook of your neck and moaning dramatically as he puts his arms around you to squish you against his broad chest and puts even more of his weight on you. Snorting you stumble a step back, arms reaching around him to steady both of you, with little succes as you keep stumbling back because he was a beefy guy and you had trouble keeping him upright. 
“Yuuji, what are you doing, you’re heavy” you huff as you stagger another step backwards, his face never leaving your neck as he sighs again.
“’m tired.” Came his nuzzled answer against your collar, leaving goosebumps in his wake as his hot breath tickles over your exposed skin.
“I can tell. C’mon then, I have dinner ready for you.”
You maneuver your boyfriend to your shared kitchen and sit him down on a chair so you have your hands free to get his food ready. He watches you with big tired eyes the whole time, exhaustion making them droop and close from time to time, seemingly without him even noticing it. He looked cute, as usual, a little disheveled, but still utterly cute and a warm feeling spread in your chest again as you watched him slowly stuff his face with what you prepared for him, munching happily, but slowly. Another indicator at how exhausted he must be, you thought to yourself. Usually the food would be gone in little to no time.
“Can we watch a movie now? I want to cuddle.” Your simple approving hum was answer enough for him. Instead of waiting for you to clean up, he wraps his arms around your middle as soon as you were close enough to him and carries you to the living room as if you would weight nothing. Well his inhuman strength sure came in handy sometimes.
Gently putting you down on the couch, he hands you the tv remote, before flopping down on you entirely, arms going around your hips as he snuggles his face into your lap. Another sigh leaves his lips, this time sounding very content as you tenderly run your fingers through his hair. You chuckle.
“You don’t even want to watch a film, you just want to be cuddled, am I right?”
“No, but you can choose the movie.”
“Liar. You don’t even have your eyes open.” You laugh as you poke his cheek. “Such a big baby.”
“Mhh don’t stop.” He grumbles when he couldn’t feel your fingers comb through his hair anymore.
Absentmindedly you just put on a random documentary on Netflix, focus never leaving your boyfriends face. Or what you could see of it anyways, as he had it mushed against your thighs.
“Hard mission today? Want to talk about it?” you ask as you continue to run your fingers through his pinkish hair, grazing your nails along his neck exactly how he likes it.
A first approving hum and another declining hum vibrate against your legs and you smile fondly down at him. It has been a long time since he last came home this exhausted. At times like this, you were actually happy that he had the king of curses residing inside of him. Sukuna surely would intervene when it got dangerous enough, making sure Yuuji, and therefore he himself would survive.  
Continuing to gently caress your boyfriend, you start thinking again. It has been some time now since Yuuji had last lost control and let Sukuna emerge. It also usually happens when he was as exhausted as he currently was: when he was letting his guard down.
And sure enough, as your fingers trail down his neck, scratching at his scalp before slightly massaging his muscles you could see them: faint black lines appearing all over your boyfriends body. They disappear just as quickly when Yuuji moves a little, readjusting his weight on you, making it even easier to access his neck just how he likes it.
Soon enough his breathing evens out again, chest lifting and falling slowly, drooling a little as he drifts off for real this time. Black lines appear again all over him. Smiling, you trace your finger along one of them, noticing the little shudder the man tries to hold back. Humming, you continue to caress your boyfriends face and neck. Your smile only grows as time goes by, so when finally a red eye pops open on your boyfriends’ cheek you snicker.
“Who would’ve thought that the king of curses likes to be babied as well…” you mock, as you gently run your finger below his eye, pulling it quickly away when a mouth appears to snap at it.
The man currently in your lap was not your boyfriend anymore and you knew that. Of course you did. As soon as the markings appeared he was gone, yet you just knew Sukuna wouldn’t hurt you. When this switch had happened the first time without Yuuji noticing, you had freaked out and poked him hardly, which woke him up instantly and made Sukuna disappear in a matter of seconds. He was just as freaked out as you were about it then, so you had kept it a secret that it had happened after that again. And again.
So now, when 3 more red eyes stared up at you as he lifted his head a little you only sigh, but run your hands through his hair nonetheless.
“Rough day for you as well, hm? You’re not very chatty today.”
Sukunas much deeper voice rumbles against your thighs as he rests his head there again and whines. “I think I was the only one having a rough day. The brat nearly got himself killed…again.”
Stopping your ministrations, you fix your eyes on his face and wait for him to elaborate. When he does not, you pull at his hair a little. “Could you please explain how my boyfriend nearly got himself killed…again!?”
“Did I tell you to stop?”
“What?” you ask confused.
He lifts himself up again, giving your hands a pointed look, making you groan. “You’re so demanding.”
“I’m the king of curses, you should do as I say or you’ll die.”
“Oh shut up, you were literally drooling in my lap two minutes ago.”
“I wasn’t, the brat was. I could kill you right now.”
Rolling your eyes you shove your hands back into his hair a little rougher than necessary, pulling on strands of his hair as he still didn’t tell you what happened. “Tell me or I’ll stop again.”
Your leg heats up as he exhales against it slowly and then starts telling you what happened. Yuuji was a decent fighter you knew that, but you also knew that one of his weak points were his friends and loved ones. And today that had proved to be the problem.
“I had to grow back his whole arm,” he complains. “If I hadn’t switched with him he would have bled to death right there.”
Your hands falter again. So it had been really bad today. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell you about it. “Hey honey, I nearly died today, how was your day?” Goosebumps raise on your arms as you imagine how the day could have gone if Sukuna had not meddled. Instead of your tired boyfriend coming home to you, a random worker from jujutsu tech, telling you he died. Or even worse, one of his close friends coming to deliver such a horrendous message. You involuntarily shudder.
“Don’t worry, he’s fine.”
Cupping his cheek, you make him look up at you. “Thank you, Sukuna.”
“I only did it to safe myself.”
“That doesn’t mean I appreciate it any less.”
His mouth already pulled into a snarl, ready to give a snarky remark when the lines on his body started rapidly fading again and a droopy Yuuji was looking at you again.
“Sorry sweetie, were you talking to me?” he yawns loudly and squishes his face even more into your lap, snuggling in again. “I’m just so tired.”
Gently running your fingers over his face, you poke him in the cheek. “Let’s go to bed then puppy, you need to rest properly.”
It was obvious that Yuuji didn’t want to move away from his place on top of you, but he also knew you were right. As nice as your fingers in his hair felt, in the end this position would strain his neck and make him even sorer than he already was. So he reluctantly got up and got himself ready for bed, humming happily when he saw that you joined him in the bathroom.
With the toothbrush still dangling from his mouth he asks you what you had been saying earlier. Pondering if you should tell him that you’ve been talking with Sukuna, and not for the first time at that, you decide against it…for now. He would surely freak out again and lose all of his tiredness if you told him now and then he wouldn’t be able to rest. And he so very clearly needed to rest. You could tell him tomorrow morning, you decided. So you tell him you’ve only been rambling along a little.
After brushing his teeth, he leaves you alone to do your evening routine, but not before he discards his shirt and trousers in the laundry basket. He was one of those persons who always ran hot, so he only slept in his boxers. Who needed a blanket or clothes when they could have their girlfriend warm them up, right? That was his motto. You snort when he came back to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, telling you to hurry.
When you came to the bedroom shortly after that, he was already sprawled out in bed, opening his arms for you to lay on top of him, so you do. Resting your face on his chest, snuggling closer so you could press little kisses to the underside of his chin, making him laugh. His comforting smell soon engulfs you and you nuzzle your nose harder against him, silently thanking Sukuna again for saving your boyfriend. In return, you can feel his arms wrap around you even more tightly.
“Yuuji?” you softly whisper. He only hums for you to know he heard you, and gives a little squeeze to encourage you to continue speaking.
Lifting yourself up a little, you press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
Yuuji pops open an eye at that, pulls you close again and kisses you back, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, pouring all his love for you into the kiss, instead of just saying ‘i love you’ back.You smile against his lips. “Good night.”
Taking up your position on his chest again, you close your eyes as well, listening to his soft breathing and little snores. Eventually it gets silent again and you feel two more arms wrap around your middle. Now too tired yourself to lift up your head and look at Sukuna, you just press a soft kiss against his chest as well, mumbling a “thank you again, ‘kuna.” Into his chest, before falling asleep yourself.
You miss the fond smile that grazes the curses lips as he beholds you, laying there utterly at peace in his arms and sighs. Maybe he did save that brat not only for his own benefits after all.
965 notes · View notes
leviiattacks · 3 years
Note
teacher!levi and teacher!reader headcanons please 🥺
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author note :: i expected for this to be better but idk,,, um, you know maybe it’s just me who wishes i executed it better but i wrote this at 3am that’s my excuse. ANYWAY I HOPE U ENJOY ANON :-))) i know it’s not headcanons but here!! also my ask box is always open to feel free to drop by !! 
word count :: 5.4k (after i had to severely cut the word count down because my tumblr wouldn’t let me post the longer version with more detail,,,,)
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honestly you’ve never fit in well with the math teachers in particular but you’re still amicable with most
however, there’s one unbearable member of the group that happens to want to play jump rope with your patience constantly
and that person just so happens to be mr ackerman
every single staff meeting the both of you sit furthest away from each other whilst silently exchanging bitter glares
maybe it’s his stony disposition or his unrealistically harsh grading system that makes him seem so off putting to you.
or perhaps it’s your soft and gentle approach to teaching that drives him up a wall
but to make matters simple, the two of you have never got along. nearly everything he says you disagree with and nearly everything you say he has to rebuke.
every outlandish suggestion of his at meetings is met with firm disapproval from you and every time you bring up wanting to provide the children with more time for extracurricular activities he sneers in annoyance
today he’s proposing a plan to set exams as soon as possible
???
you wonder if he’s even thinking with his head attached to his neck because it’ll be impossible for the children to handle all of the content in the form of an exam paper so soon
the workload he’s been pushing onto his math class has become far too ridiculous for your liking and you want to put an end to the man’s reign of terror
it just so happens your classes are scheduled in the blocks next to each other meaning he always sees your students an hour before you do
it’s got to the point where your pupils trudge into english class completely EXHAUSTED
the other day a boy fainted because of lack of sleep and now mr ackerman has the audacity to put forward the exam dates???
“we need to instill these children with discipline. taking them by surprise will give them a much needed reality check.”
you groan at his speech and raise a hand
“may i interject?”
professor ackerman’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek the irritation is painted on his face but he nods although he seems reluctant
“these children do not need standardized exams to-”
“would you like for me to completely scrap exams from the curriculum?” without even allowing for you to present your argument he has to cut you off with a mocking grin
“levi, i think-”
“that's mr ackerman to you.”
his blunt correction has you rolling your eyes because YES!! you understand the two of you aren’t exactly the best of friends but he doesn’t even want to be on a first name basis with a colleague of two years??
his pettiness has your blood boiling in searing displeasure
“you have to stop going so hard on these children.”
he’s shuffling through some paperwork not even batting an eye in your direction.
“personally, we aren’t hard enough but of course the english teacher has trouble understanding that.”
the jab he makes at your job only causes the anger inside of you to bubble up again
why does teaching english have ANYTHING to do with this???
“you teach math yet you can’t calculate the reasoning behind your subpar love life. do not insult english.”
personal insults are your favourite to throw at him because he always gets so riled up
and actually for once you have the answer to a math question.
the reason why his love life is so uneventful has to be because of this :
his personality + his obnoxious humour + his looks = a good looking but undatable man
his jaw clenches and the grip he has on the stack of papers in his hands strengthens
ok,, that is kinda hot but that is not relevant at all
you’re able to make out miss ral one of the other math teachers make a move to speak and god you fight the urge to punch her every day because she’s always gushing about mr ackerman
seeing as you don’t want to punch her or anyone for that matter you turn to give her a “if you speak right now i swear to god i will lose my shit” look
she gets the memo incredibly quickly because her mouth closes shut immediately
mr ackerman takes a sip out of the cup of black tea next to him. “i would appreciate if you just sat back and let me do what’s best.”
“children fainting in my lesson is not what’s best.” your rebuttal catches him off guard and he seems more than a little surprised
“wait- fainted??”
you eyes flick over to mr zacharias, you had told him to pass the message on but the way he’s sheepishly looking at the floor avoiding your eyes clearly tells you all you have to know
“looks like someone forgot to pass the message onto you but the other day falco fainted in english.”
“is he- is he okay?? did he say why?”
eyebrows raising you’re quite surprised to see any sort of reaction from him let alone concern
“he stayed up all night completing your homework.”
lips pressing together into a fine line it almost looks as if he’s guilty
“i’ll talk to him about it later.” his voice is back to its usually plain tone and any trace of his previous worry has been masked.
an awkward silence follows. he coughs choosing to not continue the discussion about exams.
principal smith takes the hint and moves on to discuss planned school trips
HOORAH victory!!!
yet another day where you’ve saved your students
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“who is fallacy and why are they pathetic?” a few snorts and giggles are heard around the class and you force yourself to laugh at falco's miserable attempt at a joke
you’ve noticed falco’s been cracking more jokes around his new seat mate gabi.
she’s small but feisty always willing to debate and she’s really a joy to teach although she can get a little bit aggressive with the others at times
honestly it’s quite obvious that falco has a fat crush on her. well, actually it’s been obvious from the moment she step foot into your class
and... you couldn’t just ignore the way falco looked at her could you?? and there was an empty space next to him too sooooo, what harm would there be in placing the two together?
it seems as if your attempt at getting the both of them to talk has worked. gabi and falco compete desperately for the top position in the class and are two of the best students you’ve had in a while
also after the day falco fainted in class gabi has been noticeably nicer. things like asking if he’s drank water or how much he’s slept
you have a small inkling that she may like him back
and the budding romance is adorable to you because you too once had childhood crushes
it feels rather nostalgic to see the two interact
but today you notice the two aren’t in
in fact, you notice half of the class isn’t?
“where are the others?” your question sends a jolt through one of your present students but he stays silent choosing to pretend to clean his glasses as a distraction
crossing your arms over your chest you walk over towards his desk
“udo, you can tell me what it is.”
“professor ackerman said not to tell.” udo looks petrified and you’re just kinda wondering what in the hell is going on
lucky for you his resolve is thin and he quickly cracks under pressure
“okay. you can’t say i told.”
nodding in agreement he looks around making sure no one else hears what exactly it is he’s about to disclose
“he’s kept some people back to talk to them about something top secret. i don’t know what but he asked for the students who like you.”
at that you feel a little bitter because if he asked for the student who liked you why on earth is half the class still here??
but oh well, you guess you can’t please them all
“oh no, no, no. you’ve got it wrong. we all wanted to stay but he didn’t let us.”
udo looks genuine so you let it slide
either way it doesn’t really matter as long as the majority prefer you over that sick and twisted math teacher you’re alright
“he does know he’s cut into my class time right?”
“falco told him that and he whispered something about how you’re bothersome.”
you???? bothersome???
WHEN HE’S THE ONE BOTHERING EVERYONE?/!:£:!/)
you don’t even look back as you walk out frankly furious at what’s happened
english is important
ACTUALLY!!!
ENGLISH > MATH
you will stand by that till the day you die
your knuckle meets with the wooden surface of your sworn enemy’s classroom door and almost automatically you’re able to hear the shuffle of chairs and padding of numerous footsteps approach
the door swings open and you step aside to allow your missing students to pass through
they look nervous but one look at your reassuring smile lets them ease up and relax
“well.” a voice behind you snaps “look who paid me a visit.”
“we’re talking about this later.”
you try your best to sound serious but you don’t know if you pull it off as well as he does because he just ends up giving you a disappointed sort of look
“y/n. stick to being the good cop it suits you better.”
“we are not on first name basis. you said it yourself.” is your narrowed comeback
finally turning to face him you’re surprised when your eyes travel to the triangle of space behind him and you’re able to get a peek of what looks to be a list of books on his whiteboard
pride and prejudice
wuthering heights
jane eyre
ville-
before you’re able to read the rest he moves in front of your line of vision
he’s got quite the selection but,, when did he of all the people on this planet start showing any interest in literature?
“the books on the board what’s that about?”
your inquiry flies over his head and he shuts the door behind him completely
his face doesn’t move and if it does it only shows the slightest hint of confusion
“what books are you talking about?” he replies and don’t know why your knees feel a little weak when he looks you straight in the eyes
snap.
out.
of.
it.
“i saw books on the board.”
“you saw wrong.” he barks back and he’s getting agitated now
maybe you did imagine it...
and you have to get back to teach your class so okay fair enough you’ll let it go because you do know you have a habit of daydreaming randomly
however that doesn’t stop you from giving him another skeptical look before you leave because there is NO WAY you imagined it, but it is you and it really could be a possibility
the click clack of your heels against the floor sound out as you remove yourself from the conversation
you assume he’s returned to his classroom
that’s why it catches you by surprise when you hear a hesitant voice behind you
“there were no books on the board.”
you don’t know why he has to tell you that again because it only makes himself look all the more suspicious
“but if they were a list of book recommendations then what would you recommend i read?”
the question is peculiar coming from him
are you in an alternate universe?
is this a dream?
are you talking to a clone?
a robot?
because this can NOT be the same man you’ve been working with for two years
maybe he’s having a change of heart?
but that sounds unlikely
maybe he’s planning to read the book and somehow with that big brain of his formulate a calculation to score it a measly two out of ten
yeah. that sounds more likely.
nevertheless, you still want to give him a recommendation, maybe he’ll find out he’s into books this way
“you should totally check out pride and prejudice :-)”
for once you’re smiling at him and he doesn’t know what to do because the change is sudden but he doesn’t say a word after that
instead he retreats into his classroom
god.
now you’re sure he’s just asked to form a stupid calculation or whatever the hell it is math teachers do.
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“he likes you.” hange has a shit eating grin on their face and you can’t help but narrow your eyes and sigh in exasperation
no he does not like you but you don’t try to correct hange because you know they’re firm in their stupid belief
“would you ever date him?” hange fiddles with the last of their potato salad absentmindedly waiting on your reply
the question literally has you choking on your lunch
“i would rather fight for survival in the wilderness. thank you for asking.”
“oh come on... he’s got a thing for you. you read romance novels all the time you should be able to tell he does.”
“yeah and that thing he has for me is wanting to shove my head onto a pitchfork. you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” shoving a piece of pasta into your mouth you sigh dreamily at the taste. it serves as a momentary distraction
you get one lunch break and you are not!!!! in the mood to talk about him whilst you’re on that break
he’s attractive
and you have to admit he looks handsome in his crisp white button up and pristine black suit AND his cologne is really...
okay, you are digressing from the point
none of what you just said means anything!!!
at surface level he seems like a catch but it’s what’s on the inside that matters and he said he finds english stupid
that’s more than enough of a reason to dislike the guy?
he thinks stuff like the pythagorean theorem and y = mx+c are entertaining
y = mx+c ??? over literature???
you read books to teach and you read books for your own enjoyment
it would be a complete travesty if you had a crush on a book hater
and levi ackerman most certainly can be classed as a book hater.
a pessimistic book hater if the specifics are needed
“OH! SORRY Y/N GOTTA BLAST MOB’S OVER THERE!!!!!”
you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye because hange makes an eager run towards moblit
hange and moblit are inseparable, both are the shared heads of the science department and since he’s been off on sick leave recently you understand why hange’s rushed off to greet him
you wish you had a teacher friend like that but the sad truth is you’re pretty much a lone wolf. the other english teachers are wrinkly old pickles and talk about antiques or quiz shows :-(
“this seat free?”
no way.
it’s not him
it can't be
what does he even want??
“um, well yeah it is free b-.”
“good.” he takes the seat without you even inviting him and now you’re stuck in an awkward situation you didn’t even expect to be in today
you're about to burst into tears because is it too much to ask for a peaceful lunch period???
mr ackerman clears his throat and places a book in the center of the table. “pride and prejudice although not my cup of tea was... mildly enjoyable.”
wait...
is this him...
admitting defeat!??
HELLLOOOOO
you are over the moon right now because you know he really had to have enjoyed it a lot and is simply choosing to withhold that information for his own reputation
“i’m happy to hear you took a liking to it.” you’re munching away at your pasta a little more upbeat now
“okay but the start of the book assuming all single men want a wife? no, all i want is a good night’s rest for once. also mrs bennet needs to calm down, elizabeth can marry who the hell she wa-”
“someone’s a little passionate aren’t they?” you giggle into your glass of water and you catch mr ackerman frowning
“i liked it okay.”
“i thought you said it was only mildly enjoyable just now?” grinning and looking at him through your lashes his cheeks become red
you guess he’s angry or something but that’s the usual with him
“yeah, whatever. i just wanted to play fair and apologise.”
“apologise?” oh wow, now your interest has really peaked because never in the past two years has he apologised to ANYONE
not even principal smith for the one time he flipped out and nearly cursed at a mouthy student at parent's evening
grimacing a little before he does it he finally speaks again.
“english is important. i’m sorry.”
your lips tug up into a bright smile
well???
this is a great interaction??
an apology coming out of levi ackerman of all people
“apology accepted! i’m glad to know you liked the book but now that we’re a tad bit friendlier with each other i wanted to ask for a favour.” your eyes gleam and he swears he can see specks of shining stars in them
“...okay, it depends.”
he’s warming up to you so he considers it
“please don’t cut into my lesson time levi.” his name slips out of your mouth but it’s so natural you don’t even care to correct yourself
“i’m sorry about that too y/n.” your name now ventures out of his mouth too as it tests the waters
wordlessly the two of you agree to first name basis
BUT more important matters are at hand such as how he’s issued you yet another apology?
this is satire surely
because why is he so willing all of a sudden...?
well, that's the power of pride and prejudice, wow you’re really thanking the heavens for blessing this world with jane austen’s existence
jane austen. a woman capable of remarkable things, she's even managed to make an unmoving book hater somehow become a lover
poking at your tuna pasta you and levi are now quiet.
“soooooo, any opinions on mr wickham?” you ask the question hoping to initiate a longer conversation than before
and luckily for you your attempt works
SUCCESS!!
levi pinches the bridge of his nose and the creases on his forehead show he clearly isn't particularly fond of wickham
“don’t get me started he’s so indescribably annoying?”
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ok, ok, ok
you don’t even know how it happens but you and levi really hit it off
weeks have passed and you and him have even become lunch buddies
it was so shocking to moblit at first that he dropped his lunch on the floor when he saw you and levi enthusiastically exchanging words
then again, two mr wickham haters are bound to get along
you’re seriously wondering how the two of you ever survived as mortal enemies
yeah, you still disagree a lot but you’re getting there!!
sometimes he helps you out when your computer stops running and in exchange you’re willing to offer him book recommendations
he swears he doesn't want any recommendations from you but you know he enjoys it
yesterday he got microsoft excel out and showed you how useful it really was and you went :O because you never really understood the need for it at all
you’re a little bit of a granny when it comes to tech...
and just today at lunch you recommended he checks some plays out but his nose wrinkled at the mention of shakespeare so the both of you went through a long list of dramas and eventually you were able to interest him in j.b. priestely's an inspector calls
another victory for you!!
anyway, right now the two of you are sitting inside of the staff room seeing as it's that time of the month again.
time for the monthly staff meeting
it's the first one you've had since you and levi became friends and you're worried the both of you will be back at it butting heads
wait, are you friends?
well, you wouldn't mind if that were the case but to be honest you would like to be a little bit more than friends mayb-
no!!! no!!! no!!! stupid thought!!! you retract that statement immediately
no you do not want to be more than friends with levi ackerman, yes he's lovely to a degree but you are not going to elaborate on why it's a terrible idea to fancy him
okay wait, let's elaborate for the sake of elaborating
he's surprisingly charming and wittier than you thought he would be. the fun conversations are making your days now and to be honest it is nice to have someone to spend lunch with (hange usually skips out on lunch all together to tinker in the science labs and set up experiments)
wait... weren't you suppose to explain why you don't want to get with him?
you're an idiot and you don't notice how dumb you really are until everyone just kinda gawks at the both of you because it's so odd seeing you in the same room let alone within a three feet radius of each other.
fuck, you completely forgot you and levi sat at opposite ends of the room
principal smith enters and even he looks visibly shocked at the change in seats but he doesn't mention it and you're grateful he doesn't because you didn't purposefully sit here it just happened on accident
erwin turns in your direction and smiles
"would you like to start off with your proposition for extracurriculars?"
nodding your head you begin passionately.
"well, i'd like to say i don't think we offer the children enough. we have spare funding so why not open another club? cooking perhaps? i understand many of you may not understand the importance of teaching them how to cook but-"
"do you have an obsession for setting these children up for failure?" tensing up you notice it's levi who's spoke and he doesn't sound remotely happy
blinking once and then twice he realizes his tone isn't the best and he mutters an apology "sorry, go ahead i'll add in when you're done."
whispers travel through the room straight away
"did he just say sorry?"
"actually why are those two sitting together?"
"do you think they're you know...?"
miss ral who's sat a little further away is the next person to disagree with you
"i understand the intention but would it not be better to let them have extra math lessons?"
"oh, so you can get a pay rise?" the comeback you make is aggressive and dripping in displeasure
she sits up face burning up
"no- no- absolutely not i take pleasure in teaching all of my classes." flustered and trying to hide her nerves she takes a sip out of her water bottle
you want to pour all of the water out onto that ginger hair of hers
the reason why her interjection is getting on your nerves is due to the fact you overheard her and another one of the math teachers plan to bring this specific point up
and you are well aware that her reasoning behind it has nothing to do with the children
she couldn't care less about them
"do not make me repeat what you and mr bozado were chit chatting about earlier today."
the threat is enough to silence her and just when you think you've handled the situation levi has to give his input
"let's ignore petra's motivations and talk about how teaching these kids how to cook means nothing if they have no tradable skills to offer in the real world." levi's not looking at you. he's either too annoyed or too preoccupied with his thought process
at that moment you feel naive, you thought maybe he would try to understand your opinion seeing as he's been spending so much time with you as of recent but that looks to not be the case
murmurs of agreement fill the room at his statement and you feel pathetic
it's practically the entire room against you now
genuinely how is it these people can manage to be such spoiled sports about everything?
"recently, i asked all of my classes to write an essay about school stress. maybe you won't understand my views because you haven't read their pieces but they need a fucking break." the expletive flies out of your mouth without warning and you flush in embarrassment
that
was
not
professional.
"oh god, i'm sorry i got worked up i shouldn't hav-" fumbling over all of your words you feel even more mortified
the principal raises his hand signalling you stop and you clamp your mouth shut. you're in huge trouble that's for sure
but,,, in spite of the clear difference in opinion between you and the other teachers, soft and well spoken principal smith says the unthinkable
"i have the final say and i believe you are coming from a good place after reading your student's work. how would you feel about running the new cooking club?"
scanning his face for a second you can tell his question is legitimate and the wave of relief that washes over you has never felt better than ever
sighing contently you agree and as the topic of conversation shifts to something else entirely you sense your heart rate picking up
you feel like you're back to square one with levi.
it's yet another day where you’ve saved your students and you should be feeling overjoyed but if anything you feel a little deflated
you wish he would have come around and understood but you can't teach and old dog new tricks
again, the feeling of disappointment wears you down
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two weeks have passed since then and your favourite time of year has come. it’s spring term meaning MACBETH
the english curriculum includes plays and it just so happens that today is your first lesson covering shakespeare
and you LOVE shakespeare
something about all the intricate foreshadowing always has you excited
but some children are missing
and it’s way too many to blame on sickness
so you wait for a few minutes but it's consistently radio silent
the last time this happened the culprit had been levi and he promised to never cut into your lesson time
but you could count on him to break his promise after the fiasco that was the monthly meeting
is he back to hating you and hating literature?
well, that's his loss if that's the case!! and no!! you will not upset yourself over the loss of the budding friendship
sighing you get to your feet making a beeline to the door but gabi and falco rush to stop you
awkward chuckles activated they wave their hands to get your attention “OH NO, they’ll only be five minutes!!” their sentence comes out as one big blur of words but you manage to understand them
now you’re doubtful because you know falco and gabi would usually ignore you and allow you to walk out
giving them a knowing glance the pair look between each other
their eyes are clearly communicating and asking if it’s alright to tell you
“i promise i won’t be mad.” you sigh
perhaps if you reassure them they’ll be more likely to spill the beans
“it’s not that you... i don't know. you might be upset.” gabi isn't one to care much for other's feelings so you're slightly anxious even though you shouldn't be
but you’re a tough nut to crack. so, absolutely not. you are not going to upset yourself over whatever it is
“i won’t be hurt. i’ve suffered through reading some of the most emotional classics to ever exist.” hitting your chest with your fist you wince a little because you hit yourself a little too hard
falco’s seems to be too shy to come out with it so gabi takes the lead as she normally does
“some students were talking badly about you so mr ackerman kept them behind to have a talk.”
oh.
yeah, actually you are a teeny weeny bit disheartened because you think you’re nice to all of your pupils but it’s nothing too bad, not everyone will like you
“if that’s all i’ll go get them. thank you for letting me know.” giving them two thumbs up you leave the class immediately
levi is probably scolding them to hell and back
not because he cares for you but because he hates disrespect in general
as you’re nearing the open door of his classroom you hear something you never thought would emerge from levi’s room
“final question. why does mr darcy say he doesn’t want to dance with elizabeth at first?” oh yeah, that’s levi’s voice for sure
an english question?
is he quizzing them on pride and prejudice?
you wait hoping your students don't fail you and are able to provide the correct answer.
“ummm... she’s not pretty enough!!”
levi hums “you answered all five questions right. do you all know why?”
you can’t see the children’s faces but they have to be confused if there’s no immediate response
he grunts in agitation “because your english teacher works hard to teach you every single day. have some respect because that teacher of yours is one in a million.”
taking your bottom lip in between your teeth you fight the urge to smile
“do you know how at every single staff meeting there’s only ever one teacher fighting for you all and what you want. i can assure you that teacher isn’t me, but i believe you can all guess who i'm talking about.”
your heart does a back flip in your chest and you feel jittery but in that really fuzzy good way
like that super duper fuzzy and hazy good way
he’s really very sweet for saying all of this and you're now smiling like an idiot
one pupil takes a chance to make amends “we’re sorry mr ackerman.”
but before levi can give them a response you clap your hands together and walk in unannounced 
“apology accepted, now if you want to all be forgiven forever please return to class and answer the questions on the board!” directing them to the door with your hands you make sure they're conscious fo the fact you aren't mad at them
still, never have you seen them so eager to run off to analyze macbeth. you guess levi's deathly stare is the cause for it
holding back a laugh you clear your throat after the last student leaves
“thank you levi :-)”
it’s quiet for a second and you think to ask him about what has been gnawing at your mind
“you didn’t have to do that. you disagreed with me before so... why did you?”
“i say this at every meeting and you never listen but children need to be disciplined.” his unchangeable tone is unwelcoming
again it’s awkwardly silent and you sorta regret even coming over to see what was going on because now you and levi are just having an uncomfortable staring contest
then he scratches the back of his neck and heaves a heavy breath
“it may also be because i really fucking like you, but i look like an idiot saying that when we’ve been at each other's necks for two years.”
oh.
the sudden and brutally honest confession has the wind knocked out of you, you’re stunned
and then you get hit by it too. the realization hits you like rain hits umbrellas on stormy days. you like him too.
you like him for his witty sense of humour, his pure honesty and his hatred for mr wickham only serves as a bonus
yes, you have your differences. many of them. but you like him
he’s no longer a book hater and so by default you can fancy him. he goes against none of your guidelines essentially
you like him, he likes you back?’//’.;
[SCREAMS]
“well, what do you say? will you be this mr darcy's elizabeth bennet?” hearing the cheesy pickup line from him of all people has the butterflies in your stomach exploding in delight 
“you sound weird, where's the grumpy math teacher from before?" now you and him are simply shamelessly flirting but HEY!! you have no complaints at all
he scoffs at your sarcastic question
"do you want the equation for a two dimensional heart on a graph beca-"
"can i just kiss you?"
wOWIE are you being bold today y/n???
thankfully you don't have to wait for his answer. levi’s right hand pulls your face in and he slams his lips against yours. he gives your waist a squeeze and you hold him tighter by the neck in response. he has a way of somehow making it all feel gentle and relaxed in the same breath
and... you know what? maybe you should have recommended pride and prejudice to him earlier
but oh well.
what matters the most right now is that you're kissing your mr darcy!!
and he’s kissing his elizabeth bennet
:-)
648 notes · View notes
lyrabythelake · 3 years
Note
I love your fics! Especially Wars Of The Mind! If it's not too much trouble, I was wondering if I could request some more Warriors angst (maybe with Wild??) Thank you <3
Of course, anon! I'm always happy to write Warriors angst :D Thank you for this great request, and your kind words!
Eight heroes sit restlessly in the tavern of the quaint, wayside inn. It’s cosy, if not a little cramped, and there’s a fire constantly roaring in the hearth. Wild could probably draw it from memory now; every warped wooden plank beneath their feet, every mismatched chair, each row of dusty, weathered seashells placed haphazardly on the windowsills.
If there’s one thing Wild is certain about his own convoluted personality, it’s that he is not made to be cooped up like this for long periods of time. Every part of him is buzzing to be set free, like he’s made of a thousand angry wasps that grow exponentially more furious the longer he has to sit in this uncomfortable, wooden chair.
Twilight sits opposite him, sprawled with both arms leaning on the table in front of him, playing with a strand of shaggy hair that’s fallen in front of his face. The others sit in varying degrees of the same unconcealed boredom, Wind with a constant frown on his face and Time opening his mouth every so often as if to speak, but eventually deciding against it. Sky is just asleep, and for once, Wild really can’t blame him.
“You should speak to him.”
Wild’s leg, which has been continuously jumping up and down beneath the table, stills at Twilight’s words.
“What? Why me? I’m not as close as you or Wind or Legend are to him.”
“You know why,” Twilight tells him sternly. “And he won’t speak to me, Wind or Legend, so I think you should try.”
“Please, Wild,” says Four. “If I have to stay here any longer, I think I’ll go insane.”
The others murmur their agreement, like they’ve all been secretly wanting to ask, but haven’t quite found the right way to go about it.
Wild scowls, but after a moment’s thought slides his chair back.
“Fine. But he’s not going to speak to me.”
“Hate to say it,” says Legend, “but you’re our last hope. If you don’t get him to come out of there today, I’m leaving without him.”
He absolutely wouldn’t leave without him, but Wild wasn’t going to start a pointless argument.
“Thanks, Wild,” Twilight calls as he begins to climb the stairs to the bedrooms upstairs.
Warriors’ is the last door on the right and hasn’t been opened since they first arrived here two days ago. The floorboards creak loudly as he approaches, so much so that he’s certain Warriors heard him coming a mile off, so there’s no point in hesitating before knocking.
“Captain?”
“Go away.”
“It’s Wild.”
“I know. Go away!”
Wild huffs. “Please, Wars. We both know why they sent me up here. Can we just humour them for a while? Just so they shut up about it?”
There’s a long pause, so long Wild starts thinking about giving up and heading back downstairs, last hope be damned, but then…
“Fine.”
“I can come in?”
“Yeah, okay. If you have to.”
Wild is genuinely surprised. That was way easier than he expected.
The room, when he opens the door, is dim and musky. The curtains are drawn, shutting out the midday sunlight, but a candle burns on the bedside table emitting enough of a glow to see the contents of the room and throw eerie shadows across the walls.
Warriors sits on the edge of the bed, his usual neat, perfectly combed hairstyle in disarray. The last time Wild saw him properly, he had been covered in blood, pale as chalk and half-conscious, and honestly, he doesn’t look all that much better now. It’s dark in the room, but Wild can see his face clearly and he’s just as pale, just as pained.
The scar runs right through his face, over the bridge of his nose and down one cheek, a trail of imperfection splitting his face in two. It’s healed now thanks to many a red potion and a little of Hyrule’s life spell, but it’s still pink and angry looking, unlike his own which faded to a tough white somewhere within the hundred years spent in the Shrine of Resurrection.
Twilight always tells him scars aren’t imperfections, that they’re a symbol of strength and the evil they had all overcome. Wild appreciates it, he really does, but it doesn’t change how his own serve as reminders of his one greatest failure.
He wonders if that’s how Warriors sees his own too, or if the issue is a little shallower than that.
“The others don’t care, you know,” he tells him. He doesn’t have saccharine words of comfort like Twilight always does for him, so he says what he knows to be true. “I know that firsthand. I think they’re actually the only people to treat me normally since I woke up from the shrine two years ago.”
Warriors doesn’t answer, just sits half turned away, half in the shadows with a blank expression. Wild’s flying blind; he has no idea what to say to make him feel better. Their circumstances are completely different, mostly because he doesn’t actually remember getting his own scars.
“Did you know,” he continues with the first thing to come to mind, “the first people I saw after I woke up were this woman and her little son. I was really happy to see them, but the woman looked so terrified of me that she hid her son behind her back like I was going to attack them or something.”
He pauses, considering.
“Though, actually, in all fairness that might’ve been because I was running around half naked covered in blood with twigs sticking out of my hair, but still. Everyone always either stares at my scars or pointedly doesn’t look at them. They treat me all weird, and… well, you guys never did that.”
Still, no answer.
“What I’m trying to say is that you don’t need to hide from us. They don’t care. It’s weird, but they don’t.”
Warriors eyes flicker to him for half a second before looking down again. It’s disconcerting to see him like this, tilted away from him to hide his face, curtains of wavy hair deliberately placed in front of his eyes like he’s hiding from the world. Wild always admired his confidence and effortless charisma, but he guesses it’s always been more fragile than it seemed.
“I-I don’t—” Warriors starts, his voice a little hoarse. “I don’t look like me anymore. When I look in the mirror.”
Wild really can’t help him with that, considering he’s never really looked like himself with or without the scars (how can you look like yourself when you don’t know who you are?). He personally chooses to look in as few mirrors as he can, but somehow, he doesn’t think that’s sound advice for Warriors.
“Well if it helps, from my perspective you still look like you, just with a claw mark on your face. You’re still pretty,” he adds, because it seems to be something that’s important to Warriors, even if he doesn’t understand it himself.
Warriors sighs deeply and Wild’s heart drops. He knew this was a bad idea, he knew he would say something wrong.
“I know you all think I’m vain for caring about my looks so much,” Warriors says, “and I know I shouldn’t, and there are more important things, I just…” he takes a deep breath, like he’s on the precipice of something and is persuading himself to jump.
“When I first joined the army, I was this scrawny, grimy kid from the streets. People treated me like dirt, and it wasn’t long before I realised that if I cleaned up, if I spent a little money on nice clothes and did my hair every day, people respected me more.”
Wild raises his eyebrows. He has always kind of assumed Warriors came from money from the way he acts.
“It sort of became an obsession after that; I couldn’t let anyone see me without my hair done and, even on the road, I was spending an hour on my appearance every morning.”
Wild thinks of Hyrule and his unruly, unbrushed hair; his thinning tunic which always seems to have holes in it no matter how many times Legend fixes it for him. He remembers the way people treated him in his world when they visited, like he was worth nothing, despite the fact he saved their kingdom twice over. He wonders if they would respect him more if he looked like a prince rather than a homeless traveller.
“People are stupid,” he decides out loud. “You’re more than your looks, and if anyone respects you less for having a scar on your face, they don’t deserve you as their captain.”
It’s probably the most decisive he’s ever sounded about anything, and Warriors actually looks at him in surprise, showing his whole face.
“You think?”
The question sounds so unsure, so un-Warriors like, that Wild is completely taken aback. He can’t recall a time when Warriors ever asked him for confirmation on something like this, looking to him to pull him up from a chasm of self-doubt.
“Of course,” he says truthfully. “You actually… you actually said something similar to me once. I don’t know if you remember.”
It had been near to the start of their journey when they were talking about scars and the topic of his own had come up. He has never been afraid to show them (he’s never had much choice in the matter), but Warriors had told him then that he had respect for those who wore their scars with pride, and that others should too.
“Right,” Warriors says. “I did, didn’t I.”
Wild nods. “You’re pretty good at giving advice. You should take some for yourself. And,” he adds, just for good measure, “if it’s the women you’re worried about, I’m pretty sure I’ve had more people interested in me because of my scars. They like the whole ‘wounded hero’ thing I’ve apparently got going on.”
Warriors snorts. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Wild relaxes and smiles, happy to know he might’ve made some progress. He’s got a feeling it’ll be a while before Warriors works through his issues, but he hopes the other heroes will be able to help him a little before he goes back to his own time.
“So… would you be willing to come downstairs now?” he asks hesitantly. “Everyone’s really worried about you, you know.”
Warriors ducks his head again, biting his lip.
“Give… give me a few more moments. I’ll be down soon, I promise. I know I’ll have to do it sooner or later.”
Wild nods and turns to leave, but he pauses with a hand on the doorknob.
“No one loves you any less, Wars. I promise.”
“…Okay.”
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drakenology · 3 years
Note
bestie your little reader x daddy bakugou was immaculate 😚🤌🏻✨
i don't know if your requests are open, but if they are could i request a kenma daddy & little reader?
i have a headcanon that he was like,, kinda "put down" by people because he was a bit scrawny and quiet, so now he's like "i'll show em" and boom,, daddy
if you don't want to that's okay!! or if you'd like to save it for later that's alright as well💖 i hope you're having a good day! stay hydrated and don't forget to eat a good meal!!🤠
HNNNN!!!! how’d you know about my kenma sweet spot???
now i dead ass said I wasn’t gonna write today to give myself a break butt FUCK THAT
the world needs this ok??? also thank you for your request and hope you’re having a great day too. now time to lace up my boots, drink sum iced coffee and run this mf! hope you enjoy ;). I cannon Kenma being an absolute sex god okay? Mean Dom all the way! 
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daddy! - daddy!kenma x little!reader
warnings: smut!, daddy kink, little!reader, daddy!kenma, butt plug, overstim?, dacryphilia (idk if i spelled that right...), pussy sounds, yep.
Kenma at first glance is a frail and meek guy. He was known mostly by everyone - including you at first- as a complete introvert who stayed out of the way most of the time, conversations never going as far as hi and bye. But with that, he always felt the need to prove himself as someone who isn’t so meek and quiet. He’ll prove that people shouldn’t underestimate him. So when you started dating him, you were absolutely shocked by his many kinks and insatiable desires. Kenma was the kind of dom many littles dreamed of. He was sweet and a very generous gift giver. 
When you’re the good little girl you were so inclined to be he’d reward you so well; soft kisses and new stuffies & toys to add to your collection to spoil you. He was excited to learn you liked being spoiled and treated like a fragile little girl. So he of course had to introduce his new title as our daddy in style. 
He’d start by leaving noticeable bruises all over your body. Conveniently placed hickies where his teammates could see, since he always demands you dress in practically nothing so everyone can ogle at his gorgeous baby. Short skirts, tops that left nothing to the imagination, thigh high socks; the works. That and a numerous amount of rules were set in place for you to follow behind closed doors; ask permission, say please, use your words. Something in Kenma loved telling you what to do and having you beg and bend at his every whim since he was often so looked over. He loves that you practically rush at the chance to please him and obey him. 
Oh but when you disobey?
He’s more than willing to put you back into your place. 
“What have I told you about little girls who don’t listen, princess? They get..?” Kenma lures you to finish his sentence, wanting to ensure you understand that you’re in trouble. He takes a leather belt- the first blunt object he could get his hands on to spank you into next week- and slides the material over your plump ass. 
“P-Punished..” You answer softly, burying your face into the plush belly of your favorite stuffie. Kenma earns your correct answer with a harsh strike of his belt, your back arching upwards in pain as you sob out an apology. 
“Too late for that princess. Whine all you want. It’ll only make your punishment worse.”  Kenma grunts, hitting the soft flesh of your ass and smoothing the sting over with his hands. He nudges his thumb over the pretty jewel that twinkled in the light, a cute butt plug he got for you to wear from time to time. He pushed it in a bit further, a desperate plea leaving your lips as he smacks your ass again with the thick leather belt. 
“Don’t like it when I punish you, baby?” Kenma asks condescendingly, already knowing the true answer when you mutter out a weak “no”. “Oh, but I think you do, princess. Why else would you act out so much today? You’ve clearly forgotten your place. Allow me to remind you.” 
Suddenly, his slender fingers are sliding against your already slick folds, Kenma sucking his teeth at the wetness of his fingers once he slides them easily inside. “Aww, look how sloppy my little cunt is. And you told me you didn’t like being punished. What a little liar you are.” as his nimble digits hook against your spongey spots, obscene noises filling the room as you cry out for him. Unbeknownst to you, he was going to overstimulate your pretty pussy until you saw stars, until you were begging him for a break. He growls as his hands work their magic on your puffy cunt, the other hand smacking your ass harshly as he brings you to your first blinding orgasm of the night, your greedy walls tightening around his fingers. 
“Hmm. You know what to say, princess.” he mutters once he notices your frantic sentences. 
“C-Can I please cum daddy? P-Please? I’ll be your good girl, daddy I promise jus’ please lemme cu-cum.” You babble, your eyes welling in tears as your toes curl up tightly. Kenma smirks as he burns holes into the back of your head with his eyes, not being able to resist teasing you a bit. 
“You promise, baby?” Kenma says, fingers moving faster as your moans become more desperate and high pitched.
“Yes! Daddy please yes! I-I promise! I p-promise!” You whine, unable to hold back any longer. Kenma tuts and grants you permission, not so mean that he can’t grant his pretty baby the right to cum for him. And so you do, your juices running down his fingers as you twitch and drool all over your teddy bear. 
“One down three more to go, pretty baby. You ready for daddy?” Kenma soothes, a hard cock now resting on your sore ass cheek as his hand makes way into your hair to yank it. You gasp, nodding as you look up at him with tear stained eyes. Before you can speak, his dick is already inside you starting off at a brutal pace. You’re a hiccuping mess, pleading for more as you clench around him already, extremely sensitive and needy. Kenma’s animalistic grunts are echoing past your ears, hand wrapped around your neck to choke you. You gasp, eyes rolling back as his cock hit your cervix over and over again; the white hot pleasure becoming all too much for you to take. 
“Daddyyy!” You scream, Kenma taking that wail as a compliment as he pushed his thumb against your butt plug, wanting yet another volley of your sweet juices to coat his cock. 
“C’mon, princess don’t be selfish. Gimme another..” 
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sergiovinazzi · 3 years
Text
Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)
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2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)
Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”
Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.
On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.
You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.
“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”
You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.
“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”
“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”
“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.
Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.
“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”
You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.
“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”
When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.
“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”
Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.
“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.
You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.
The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.
You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.
Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.
His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.
“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.
Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”
Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.
“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”
“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.
“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”
You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.
“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.
He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.
“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”
“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”
Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”
Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.
There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”
“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”
Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.
“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.
“Oh my god,” she whispers.
Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”
You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.
But it doesn’t come.
“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”
You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.
Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”
He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”
Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.”
Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”
“Seriously, it’s all good.”
“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”
You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”
“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.
Laughing quietly, you shrug. ��I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”
“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.
He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”
You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”
He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.
——
On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.
You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.
Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.
“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”
You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”
“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”
Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.
Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.
When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.
Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.
“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”
If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.
People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.
Your dad is angry.
The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.
Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.
____________
tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love
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mrs-march-ahs · 3 years
Text
Fashion Show for Kai
🎶I hit 600 and I’m at my peak Let’s all get excited for my Kai Week🎶 sorry that there’s so much author’s note today
Summary- Kai is sick of you loitering and bothering him, so he gives you a one time offer to go shopping and buy anything you want. The type of clothing you chose makes him realise giving you his credit card was a good choice, for both of you.
Warnings- Soft Daddy! Kai, knife & blood kink, nerd alert (Words- 2.5k) (Tag list- @tatestripedsweater​) 
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Requests- “ Can u do a kai x fem!reader smut where kai is actually a soft daddy?? I know it sounds kinda impossible for kai but it really makes me feel nice to imagine him as a soft daddy so yeah. And reader's not a virgin but it's her first time with kai. Maybe like after a cult meeting.” Yes miss girl <3
“#52 & a lil bit of knife play with divine ruler?😇 you’re so talented ily <3 - @daddyevanpeters​” I didn’t use the number prompt which I hope is okay, I think you’ll like this<3 no i love you
“CONGRATULATIONS ON 300 FOLLOWERS!!!! You are so inspiring and talented. I just joined the fandom recently, and you have been such an amazing person to look up to! I heard that you were taking requests, sooooooo do you think you could do a head cannon for James, Kai, or the Evans (if you want) on how the would react to seeing reader in lingerie for the first time!! THANK YOU!” I hope you’re still here! This request is clearly from a while ago, but this was the perfect opportunity! I love it, thank you you’re sooo sweet<3
you’ll need this picture for later, enjoy ;)
----
You slowly walk downstairs, and try to take a quick glance to see whether Kai’s cult meeting is coming to an end. Although you were almost always welcome, when it came to an upcoming murder, for some reason, Kai didn’t want you involved. And to keep you as safe and indifferent as possible, he didn’t tell you anything about it. But now that you were having a few days off work, you found yourself wandering around the house aimlessly, wanting to be with Kai even more than usual. You were usually welcome at the meetings, and it felt unnatural to you to have to avoid them. When you peaked your head around the corner of the bookshelf, Kai instantly notices you and hedges in his sentence, looking to the floor and sighing. He rubs his eyes before looking back up at you.
“I thought I was clear, can’t you keep yourself busy?”, he snaps at you. You walk over a little closer to him and sigh in exasperation.
“Can’t I just sit with you? I won’t even listen I swear-”, you don’t bother saying anything else when Kai stands up and burns you with his eyes.
“Go away”. You sulk at his words but continue to stand there, your eyes flicking around the floor, searching for something else to say and as you open your mouth to beg to stay yet again, another loud sigh interrupts you. He shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, before taking out his wallet and then credit card. He holds it in front of you and speaks with his regular authoritative tone of voice. He had to make sure that everybody at the meeting knew that he was completely in charge of you.
“Here. Don’t go crazy, but go somewhere and keep yourself busy”. You hesitantly take his credit card from his hand and nod at him, but when you pick your arms up to give him a grateful hug, he pushes them back down to deny it and snaps at you once last time.
“Do not come back here until I’m done with my meeting”
You nod and promptly leave, knowing that Kai doesn’t expect an answer, and just expects you to understand and follow every order he gives you. You quickly get dressed and leave the house, knowing Kai will get more mad if you sit around and don’t take advantage of what he gave you. Though he never particularly showered you with money, he always made sure he spoiled you some way or another so you would stay close to him.
You cautiously but happily spend Kai’s money, unsure how much you have or how much he is willing for you to spend, but in order to make sure that he wont regret giving you this gift, you decide to treat him too.
Within a little more than an hour, the very complicated plan of murder is clear to everybody in the cult and the meeting comes to an end. At that very second when most people begin to scatter, your phone in your pocket dings loudly, making sure you hear it. You’re in huge trouble if you don’t reply to Kai’s messages and calls, so to avoid having your phone taken away you never put it on silent or vibrate, and immediately read his messages. He asks when you’re planning to return home, and even though you were on your way for a coffee, mostly done with shopping, you don’t want to make him wait for you. Your thumbs dance around the keypad as you plan a message when your phone buzzes in your hand with another message from Kai.
‘Come home now’
Although his anger and fierce dominance strikes fear in others, and sometimes in you too, you go home with an innocent smirk on your face, already excited for angry Kai.
When you walk through the door Kai shuts it instantly after you, making you flinch, not having noticed him behind it. You attempt to hide your bags behind your back, but to no avail.
“I got a scam alert”, he says calmly, turning the key in the door to lock it.
“Uncharacteristic purchase from Victoria’s Secret”, he says quietly. Kai inches closer to you and puts his hands on your waist with a tight possessive grip, before looking over your shoulder at the bags behind your back. Most of them pink, one of them black. He exhales deeply in satisfaction at the sight of tissue paper, already excited for the show you’re going to put on for him.
Without a single word, he goes upstairs, and you follow him like a little lost puppy following its owner. He walks into a bedroom and sits on the end of the bed, facing the door. As you walk in behind him, he leans back on his arms and looks you up and down, examining your fully dressed body. When his eyes once again reach yours, he shakes his head to the side once, and you quickly nod.
“Yes, Divine Ruler, I’ll be right back”. You leave the room and go to the bathroom and weigh your options on which lingerie to show him first, but wanting to look as innocent as possible for him, you quickly rip your clothes off and jump into the shower for a minute, gently caressing your skin with body wash before dressing up for him.
As soon as Kai hears the water running, he sighs, and starts to look around the room, needy and already thinking of ways to punish you for wasting his time.
But soon enough, you gently step towards the bedroom Kai’s in and open the door, making Kai sit up when he hears the creak. You stand before him in your baby pink lacy underwear and bra and slowly walk over to him, making your steps as light as possible.
“I showered and oiled up for you, Divine Ruler”, you say seductively making Kai moan breathily at the sight of you glistening. When you get close enough, he puts his hands on your waist and slides them down to your thighs, one of his favorite places on your body, before putting his face to them. He runs his lips along your thighs and moans at how soft you feel under him. The soft sounds coming out of him turn you on immensely, and how his rough and dry lips slide along your thighs makes them tingle.
Kai’s hands rubbing over your ass makes your mind wander to the filthiest thoughts you have, ones you’d only share if Kai made you. A recent scenario that often came to your mind in the shower was one from a week ago, where Kai bent you over his desk as per usual, but instead of fucking you right away, he spread your cheeks and used his heavenly mouth on you, something he doesn’t do often. His hands on your thighs brought back every memory you have of him between them, making you cum over and over again until you grip his hair in the excitement, which always results in him putting you in handcuffs. Unexpectedly, Kai bites your thigh, making you gasp and break out of your trance of dirty thoughts.
“You’ve picked the perfect day to be sensitive, my love”. Kai’s new nickname for you instantly heals the temporary pain caused by his teeth, and you look at him, completely smitten and in love.
He stands up and kisses your lips once, very softly, before turning the two of you around and pushing you on the bed. But today, he does so gently, and you fall onto the mattress and feel the soft covers hug your skin and make you feel a way you never feel. Loved. It was obvious that Kai loved you, and even though he never said it, he showed it by prioritizing you over any other member of the cult, and trying to protect you from certain cruel things the world has to offer. He knew you were the strongest and most dedicated member and he always felt the devotion you gave him when you volunteered to do things for him that the other pussies were scared to do. Your heartless dedication to commit murder and crimes for him was what made gentle and innocent moments like this so special to him. Your naivety and trust for him made him hard.
He straddles you and looks at you beneath him. His eyes were as dark and lustful as always, so you put your hands up to the bed frame, all ready to be tied to up at his mercy. He smiles at your obedient actions ever so lovingly, before cupping your cheek and leaning down to you.
“Not today, little lamb”. You slowly put your hands back down confused by his words, almost worried by him not being as dominant as always, but all worries melt away when he kisses you once again, not forcing his tongue in and not making you feel like you must please him. Instead, kissing you so passionately that you are left breathless and occasionally forget to kiss back, enjoying your master taking care of you and kissing your gentle lips. He moves his attention to your neck, sucking on it gently leaving the tiniest bruises that will fade away within hours.
“Do you trust me?”, he whispers against your skin, giving you goosebumps.
“Of course, Divine Ruler”. Your instant response makes Kai smile against your neck and sit back up on you. He reaches into his pocket, and slowly takes out his pocketknife, flicking it open.
“I’m not going to tie you down, Y/N, so you need to stay still, you understand?”, he asks deeply. You look at the blade in his hand with pleading eyes and gulp at the idea of him hurting you.
“You want to… cut me?”. You ask, trying to sound as sure of yourself as possible. Divine Ruler hates weak girls.
“Of course not, I won’t cut you. If you don’t move”, he says as if it’s all so obvious. No matter how unsure you were about this, his confidence made you rely on him even more and you nod your head, willing to do whatever it is he wanted from you. His warm smile at your willingness to take whatever he does to you melts your heart and you take a deep breath before relaxing your body completely. You close your eyes and Kai shuffles down to sit over your legs, looking at your boobs and thighs in the gorgeous underwear you wore for him. Just for him.
He lays his blade against your boob, and slides it down your chest, making you open your eyes nervously but stay completely still. He hums as he slides it down your stomach, before getting to your panties and unexpectedly puts the blade under them.
“I like these”, he simply states, before in one quick motion slicing them off at one side.
“We’ll have to get some more”
He slices them off at the other side, and peels them away from you, making you bite your lip. No matter how many times Kai does a multitude of dirty things to you, your stomach fills with butterflies whenever you feel his eyes on your naked body.
He puts his knife against your lower abdomen and pushes it down slightly, making it dig into your skin without breaking it. He carefully inspects the dent in your skin as he moves it down your thigh, pushing the blade at an angle that won’t cut you. Kai is intoxicated at the incredible sight of you with your panties cut off, and staying still for him with fear behind your eyes. The vulnerability of you under his knife makes his cock harden, and he puts his other hand on your thigh with a tight grip. He gives it a harsh squeeze which not only sends a pool of arousal to your pussy, but also makes you gasp and move unintentionally, his blade digging into your skin making serious contact this time. But Kai continues to move it down, creating a slice in your thigh that begins to drool blood. You wince at the feeling but say nothing, willing to take it to see Kai pleased.
“Doing such a good job baby”, Kai mumbles under his breath, his eyes glued to the sight of you bleeding. The soft praise sticks in your mind, standing separate to the usual degrading you receive from Kai during sex. He puts the blade in front of his face and licks the blood off it, keeping strong eye contact with you, making you wet.
Just when you think you can’t get any more turned on by Kai’s sudden nurturing, as you feel your blood drip down almost to the bed sheet, he leans down and licks the blood up, then sucking the blood out of your scar. The stinging only adds to the pleasure, as you are far from new at pain and pleasure combined.
He continues sucking and kissing your thighs, getting dangerously close to where you yearn to feel his face, and starts mumbling sweet nothings against them.
“Took it like such a good girl, you know”
You lean your head back not being able to handle the praise, and bite your lip in excitement knowing you make Kai this happy.
“You’re gonna get a treat for this”. Kai sits up and puts his hands under your knees and picks up your thighs, taking a longing glance between your legs as he spreads them.
Although it takes everything from you to not sit and take the treat like a good girl, you hope the happier you make him the more he’ll do for you, and you use all the strength in your body to interrupt him.
“Kai, wait”, you say softly. “I have another outfit I think you might like”. He looks at you and considers your suggestion, before putting down your thighs. You quickly sit up and practically run to the bathroom, not only desperate to get your treat, but also knowing that the outfit will take a second to put on.
When you come back out to see Kai, his eyes widen and he resists the temptation to throw his mouth open, and clenches his jaw instead. He carefully examines you from top to bottom and back, soaking in your costume. You have a black sports bra with ropes on it, khaki shorts with a gun belt and a pistol, and your hair in a braid. Divine Ruler liked sweet obedient girls, but it was obvious the inner nerd in Kai would lose his mind at your outfit.
You walk over to him as confidently as possible, the hunger in his eyes giving you a huge ego boost, and he stands up to look down at you.
“Looks like you’re ready to be my naughty girl again, correct?”, he growls, and you nod at him. He smirks and walks over to the bed stand, taking out your handcuffs. But instead of following, you stay stood and look at him with a raised eyebrow, trying to look intimidating. He looks over at you and throws the handcuffs on the bed.
“Hurry up Lara, I have some digging and exploring to do”.
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